Taken
by orange-sunshiine
Summary: Sweeney Todd and Anthony hope are kidnapped, and some sinister experiments are performed on them. They meet Ichabod Crane while in captivity. Contains mpreg, rape, and torture. You've been warned.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks to Phish Tacko for being Editor-in-Chief for this story! Contains mpreg, rape, general torture and mutilation. You've been warned!

Ch. 1

It was a cold, rainy day, the type of day that most people would consider miserable. However, Sweeney Todd was not like most people. He actually preferred cold, rainy days to the rare times that sunlight ever filtered through the London smog.

He'd had a few customers that day. One or two regulars; people that he liked, or tolerated enough not to kill. Mainly, he liked them because they were quiet. All they wanted was a good shave and once they got it, they paid and left without much discussion.

A third customer had gotten on his nerves, though. A younger man who must've come from money, because he put down everything in Sweeney's shop.

"You must not have updated any of this equipment since the American Revolution!" He'd exclaimed as he glanced around. He was right, the chairs and mirrors were there when Sweeney had first moved in and were probably close to a hundred years old, but he didn't care to update them. They worked just fine as far as he could tell. He'd ended up slitting the man's throat before he was even halfway done with the shave.

After depositing the man's body through the trap door, Sweeney decided to close up. He was kind of tired. Becoming middle aged had that effect, he noticed. He was tired more often and his body hurt more, especially on cold, dreary days.

He sighed as he locked the door to his parlor. Maybe a drink would help him relax a bit.

It was dark outside by the time he'd made it to the Red Lion Pub down on Crown Passage. Thankfully, there weren't many customers there. Just a few bar rats and a few men who'd just left work and were having a pint before heading home to their nagging wives. Sweeney took a seat at the bar, and ordered a pint of ale.

For a while, he sat there, zoning out and enjoying his beverage. Eventually, his thoughts drifted to happier times, as they often did when alcohol was involved. He imagined his wife and daughter, what they might look like now. He remembered the day that Lucy had told him she was pregnant, how she'd laid next to him and kissed him before telling him the good news. He was happy then. The future looked bright. Had things stayed on course, he'd have a teenage daughter by now. Maybe he'd have more children. He and Lucy would still be happy, maybe living in a nicer home than the room next to his shop that they had shared.

He was roused from his daydreams by someone's voice. Rolling his eyes, Sweeney glanced over to see a little squirrelly-looking man staring at him.

"I said, what happened to your hair?" The man asked, thinking that Sweeney was ignoring him.

"It's none of your business," Sweeney replied, scowling at the man.

"It's not normal for a man to have such a streak of white in it. What's your name, stranger? I've not seen you here before."

"It's none of your damn business," Sweeney repeated. "Ask another question, and I'll make sure you regret it." He pulled out his blade to prove he was serious. Seeing this, the man immediately backed off.

"Alright, alright, no need to get violent," He said, putting his hands up.

Sweeney contemplated taking the man out back and slitting his throat anyway, but decided that he didn't want to be bothered with it. He was still tired. Still scowling, he paid his tab and began to walk out.

He'd made it a few steps outside when he began to feel dizzy. It was as if the world was spinning. It was hard for Sweeney to keep his balance, and it got harder and harder to do with each step that he took. The parlor was only another few blocks... Sweeney told himself this as he continued to trudge up the street. If he could just keep going, he could make it home and he could lie down and hopefully he'd feel better later.

Another few steps and he had to stop. He grabbed on to a nearby brick wall, trying to keep himself upright. In the distance, he could hear footsteps coming nearer to him. Closer and closer. He tried to push himself up and continue walking, but as soon as he did, he was overcome with another wave of dizziness. This time, he began to see black spots in front of him. He took another two steps before collapsing to his knees. He could still hear the footsteps, coming closer, but his vision had gone black. And, just like that, he was unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Ch. 2

Sweeney woke up in a dark room. He couldn't tell where he was, just that he was lying on a bed, dressed in a nightshirt, and that there was a tube inserted into his side. He tried to move, but his whole body hurt. He felt like he'd been hit by a carriage. And maybe been run over by some horses after that. And then maybe a few street children had played hopscotch on his body.

He cringed as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Soon, his vision adjusted, and he could see that he was in a small room. There were curtains surrounding his bed, and the ceiling was high and very ornate. Little angels were carved into the trim and a portrait of some saint hung on one of the far walls. It looked familiar, but he couldn't place exactly where he was.

For a few moments, Sweeney took it all in, studying his surroundings. The tube connected to him looked to be going in near his stomach. He could hear the dripping of whatever liquid was being pushed into him. In the corner of the room, near one of the curtains, sat a crudely constructed pump. A crank was rotating, pushing a wheel that somehow pushed a clamp down on a bag of fluids that was being fed into the tube.

Then he heard another sound. It sounded like a soft moan. Obviously, he wasn't here alone.

"Hello?" He called.

There was no answer, except for another moan. Sweeney could tell that the sound was coming from the right side of the room. He sighed and pushed himself up. Instantly, he thought he'd made a mistake. His legs still felt wobbly, and he feared he might fall. It took him a bit to steady himself enough to where he felt safe walking.

Slowly, Sweeney pushed back the curtains surrounding his bed. He was greeted by another set of curtains. He pushed past those too. As he walked, he felt the tube line pull tighter, tethering him to his bed and the area near it. He closed his eyes and pulled the needle out. This disrupted the entire mechanism that the tube was connected to. Sweeney could hear the wheel slow down, then stop moving all together. Still, he continued moving forward.

Pushing past the second curtain, Sweeney found the source of the sounds. There, on another bed, lay a young man with long blonde hair. He was thin and pale and Sweeney recognized him immediately. It was the sailor that'd taken him in on the Bountiful all those months ago, when he'd first returned to London. Anthony Hope.

The boy was clad in a nightshirt and had a line coming out of his side, much like Sweeney had found on himself. However, he looked to be sleeping. At least, his eyes were closed.

Sweeney reached out, touching Anthony softly on the arm. The boy's eyes fluttered open and he looked around with a terrified expression on his face.

"Please don't hurt me!" He begged, curling into himself a little.

"Anthony, I'm not going to hurt you," Sweeney replied, continuing to look him over.

"Mr. Todd?" Anthony looked surprised. "What... where are we?"

Sweeney shook his head. "I don't know. I just woke up here, in the bed next to yours. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was... I was with Johanna... We'd gone to the park, and she'd gone to look at the ducks in the water... That's all I remember. And… Oh my God, Mr. Todd, you're bleeding!"

"Wait, what?" Sweeney asked, surprised.

"You're bleeding!" Anthony exclaimed. "Look down!"

Sweeney glanced down, and sure enough, there was a large spot of blood on his nightshirt. It was near his lower stomach. Just seeing the blood made him feel slightly ill. And now that he could see the blood, he was starting to feel the pain in his lower regions.

"Are you okay?" Anthony asked, concerned. Sweeney had turned three shades paler in the past ten seconds. "You don't look okay..."

Sweeney slowly shook his head. Now he could feel the blood dripping down his legs. He looked at his bare feet and saw that there were drops of blood there, too.

"Mr. Todd, sit down before you pass out!" Anthony said, grabbing him by the wrist. He pulled Sweeney towards the bed, forcing him to sit.

"Where's the blood coming from?" Sweeney asked weakly. "I don't understand..." Then his eyes widened. "Anthony..." He pointed at the younger man's nightshirt. There was a large blood stain on it, just like the one Sweeney had.

"Oh my God," Anthony gasped. He lifted the shirt slightly, but pulled it back down before he could see the wound. "I'm scared to look..."

Sweeney thought for a moment, trying to force himself to remain calm.

"We probably have the same wounds... Whatever was done to us... The blood is in the same place on both of us, so... Do you want me to check you, then you check me?"

"Alright," Anthony agreed. "That sounds fine."

Sweeney nodded and stood back up. "Lie back," He instructed.

Anthony laid back on the bed, and closed his eyes. He could feel Sweeney pulling his night shirt up, exposing him completely.

Sweeney tapped one of Anthony's thighs. "Spread your legs... it looks like the blood is coming from between them."

Anthony clenched his eyes shut even harder, then slowly began to spread his legs apart. He could feel Sweeney's fingers touching his knees, and it made him extremely uncomfortable. After what felt like forever, Sweeney finally spoke up again.

"There's a rather large cut behind your... Um... well, it's between your front and your back."

Anthony snapped his legs together. "What? Why would they cut there?!"

"I have no idea. But the cut is very deep. It looks like they cauterized the edges. That's why it's not bleeding right now, but it must've been bleeding a lot before."

Anthony swallowed, now feeling very sick himself. "Ugh..."

After allowing himself a few moments to recover from the shock of it, Anthony spoke up again. "I guess I'll check you, now. Go back towards your bed and I'll meet you there."

Sweeney nodded, and began to slowly walk back over. Anthony followed behind.

Just as Sweeney had examined Anthony, Anthony examined Sweeney. It took all of the barber's strength not to flinch as the boy touched his knees. His fingers were ice cold, and he felt violated to an extent. Only two people besides himself had ever seen those parts, his mother and Lucy, and it felt strange having another man look him over, even if it was to see where a wound was. He gripped on to the sides of the mattress as Anthony spread his legs.

"Well," Anthony said. "You have a wound in the same place that I do. You were right."

Sweeney closed his legs and pulled his nightshirt back down. "I wonder why, though."

Anthony sighed. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."


	3. Chapter 3

Ch. 3

Sure enough, footsteps started sounding within the next minute.

"Go back to bed," Sweeney said. He didn't want to anger whoever had brought them there. Not until he knew what he was up against, at least.

Anthony walked back towards his bed as fast as he could, which wasn't too fast, considering the massive wound between his legs. Thankfully, he made it back before the footsteps entered the room.

Just as Anthony had pulled the covers up, the two men heard the door open. Two voices began to speak.

"They should be waking up now," The first voice – male – said. He had a thick German accent.

"Have you tied them down?" The other voice – female – also with a thick accent, asked.

The man's reply was spoken in German, and neither Sweeney nor Anthony could understand it.

Anthony tried to lie still as the footsteps got closer and closer. He tried not to act scared when the woman pulled the curtain near his bed back.

"Guten Abend," The woman said, smiling. "How are things?"

"Um..." Anthony replied, unsure of what to say. He was struck by how beautiful the woman was. She hair long, golden hair, an hourglass figure, pale skin, and striking green eyes. "Why... who are you?"

Before the woman could answer, the man with her stepped up. He was pale, like the woman, but had dark hair, dark eyes, and a thin mustache. He was very handsome, and looked to be in good physical shape. Both of them wore white lab coats.

"Wie gehts?" The man said. "Ich bin Doctor Claussen."

Anthony just stared at the pair.

Then the woman spoke up again. "Don't worry, dear. We can speak English. Frederik is just playing with you."

Anthony pulled the covers up a little higher on himself.

"Why am I here?" He asked meekly.

"Ah, good question," The woman replied. "We cannot explain it right now, but you will learn in time. Just know that you are not in any serious danger. All of your needs will be met. We will feed you, clothe you, give you all that you need."

Anthony was about to ask another question when the male doctor pulled a syringe out of his pocket.

"Ada, would you mind?" The man asked.

"Nein." Gently, the female doctor took hold of Anthony's arm. She held it still while the doctor injected him.

Anthony knew he should've fought back. Whatever they were giving him couldn't be good. Yet for some reason, he found he didn't have the strength to do so. He allowed them to push the needle in, and he cringed as he felt the liquid burning in his veins. It was a few seconds before the sedative kicked in, sending him into a world of darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Ch. 4

As Anthony slipped into unconsciousness, the two doctors made their way towards Sweeney's bed. He'd heard their short conversation with Anthony, and knew that they were planning on doing something with him, too. The fact that Anthony had gone quiet so quickly meant that they had put him to sleep, or maybe done something worse. Sweeney tried not to think about that too much.

The first thing that the doctors noticed was that Sweeney's line was on the floor.

"Tsk, tsk," The female doctor said, picking up the tube. "Pulled this out, did you?"

"Who are you, and what did you do to us?" Sweeney demanded, sitting up again.

"We are not people that you want to make enemies with, Mr. Barker," The male replied with a grin.

Sweeney was taken aback by this statement for a second. How could these people possibly know his true identity?!

"Wondering how we knew who you were?" The woman asked. "It wasn't that hard. It's why we chose you, really. As a convict with a false identity, no one would miss you."

"What... what exactly are you intending to do?" Sweeney asked, tone a bit softer. He watched as the woman picked up the needle on the end of the tube and tapped it with her fingers.

"Do not worry about that. Just know that we will take care of you. You will be making history, for lack of a better way to put it."

"What does that even mean?! Why did you cut me?"

The male doctor sighed. "You will find out. I promise this. Now, please lie still while we reinsert this. It is very important that you keep it in."

"No," Sweeney said, pushing the woman's hand away from him. "Don't come near me with that!"

The male doctor shook his head. "If you're going to make it difficult..." He pulled out another needle. "Ada, will you please?"

In one swift move, the woman grabbed Sweeney's arm, holding him still long enough for the male to inject him. Just as it had been with Anthony, Sweeney was unconscious within seconds. This allowed the doctors to reinsert the tube into his side.


	5. Chapter 5

Ch. 5

The next time Sweeney woke up, the female doctor was in the room.

"Hallo," she greeted him. He noticed that she had a tray of food in her hands. "I've come to bring you some breakfast."

Sweeney realized that he must've been asleep all night.

She set the tray down on his lap. "My name is Ada, by the way. Ada Claussen. That is my husband, Frederik, that you met last night."

Sweeney eyed the woman warily, unsure whether she was going to do anything to him this morning. She didn't seem to have anything else on her, though. No needles or anything.

"Eat your food," She urged, nodding at the tray.

Sweeney glanced down. He was hungry, and the food – two pieces of toast, an apple, and some eggs – looked good, but he didn't want to give his captors the pleasure of following their instructions.

"No." He replied, shoving the tray away.

Ada frowned. "It is imperative that you eat enough to maintain your strength."

Sweeney simply slapped the tray of food off of his bed, onto the ground.

Ada shook her head. "That is fine. Have it your way. Your acts of defiance will cost you, though. Just know that it will be easier if you follow our directions. Eat now, or we'll make sure you do later."

Sweeney had no idea what that meant, but he didn't particularly care. He fully intended to find a way out of this place today, injured or not. And he was going to be taking Anthony with him.

The woman checked his tube again, making sure that the wheel that connected to it was still running and pumping, then moved on to Anthony's bed. She left the food on the floor.

From what Sweeney could hear, the woman seemed to treat Anthony a little bit more nicely. He could hear her gently wake Anthony up, then offer to help him sit. He could hear Anthony warily allow her to do so in return. It didn't surprise him. Anthony probably didn't want any trouble, and would be more apt to follow along with whatever the doctors had planned as to avoid injury.

Sweeney could hear the woman take a few steps away and could hear the sound of wheels moving. She must've had a cart with her. She then returned to Anthony's bedside.

"Anthony, I've brought you breakfast," She said.

Anthony looked at Ada, then at the food she'd placed in front of him.

"I'm not hungry," He said slowly.

"That is fine," Ada replied kindly. "You may eat it later, when you are."

Anthony stared at her, unsure of what else to say. He knew what was on his mind, but he was afraid to outright ask it. For now, he just wanted to get Ada out of the room.

"Thank you," He finally answered, forcing a smile at her.

"Bitte schoen," She replied, smiling back.

And just like that, she was gone, having walked back upstairs.

As soon as she left, Anthony placed the tray off to the side, and pulled himself out of bed. He quietly wandered towards Sweeney's bed.

"So," The young man asked, noting the food spread across the floor. "Where do we go from here?"


	6. Chapter 6

Ch. 6

Once it was clear that the two doctors were far away, Sweeney and Anthony began to put their plan into action. It wasn't much of a plan, really. At the moment, it was merely a matter of unhooking their lines and looking for an escape as fast as possible.

Now, they were free. Free from the tubes and the beds, at least. The two wandered the room, noting that it was rather large. It looked like it had been a common room at one point, a place that could house numerous patients at once.

"I think we're definitely in a hospital," Anthony whispered as they looked around. Those angels that Sweeney had seen carved into the wall were still there, and on top of a mantel, there was a large British flag hanging.

"Well, at least we know we're still in the country," Sweeney said, looking it over.

"I think... I think we're at the old Mater's Children's Hospital. You know, the one that closed down about five years ago?" Anthony suggested.

"You've been here before?"

"Aye. When I was young, my mother brought me here when I had scarlet fever. It was run by nuns then."

"Hmm..." Sweeney poked his head into the unlit fireplace, trying to see if there was any way to climb out. The chimney was blocked. "Let's head into the next room."

It turned out that the next room was down a short hallway. The walls were bare, but it looked like at one time there had been photos hung up. There were brighter square shapes within the dirty, peeling paint.

The pair turned towards another door, off to the left.

"Let's try here," Anthony said.

Sweeney nodded, watching as the young man turned the doorknob a few times, finally jostling the door open.

The room they walked into looked to be a supply storage area of some type. A small barred window allowed sunlight to get through, so they could see. There were different types of old medical instruments littering the room.

"Ugh, look at this," Anthony said, picking up a rusted saw off the ground. Just looking at it made him feel nauseated.

"That's an old amputation saw," Sweeney replied, recognizing the instrument. He took it from Anthony and looked it over. "Still has old dried blood on it, too."

Anthony cringed and willed himself not to throw up. Then another instrument caught his eye. It looked almost like a strange pair of scissors, but was covered in rust.

"What's that?" He noticed that there were actually several sets of the same instrument within the room. "They have a bunch of them in here."

Sweeney carefully put down the saw and picked up the device that Anthony was talking about. He felt his heart beat a little bit faster. Just holding it made him nervous. He recognized it almost immediately.

"It's... I don't know what it's called, but they used one on Lucy when she was pregnant..." He trailed off.

"They must've treated a lot of pregnant women here, then," Anthony said. "There's dozens of them." Some of them looked fairly new, too. Some, like the saw, still had blood on them, but it looked much fresher.

Sweeney put the device down.

There were old chairs, some with leather straps built into them, obviously used for holding patients down while forcing them to receive treatment. Off to the side, there was a bed, also with leather straps for both a person's arms and their legs.

Sweeney's eye caught a screw-like wooden instrument. He knew what it was. It was a wooden gag. A similar item had been used on him in Australia. The wardens hadn't wanted to hear him scream when they'd whipped him, and so they'd used the gag...

Sweeney shook his head, trying to remove himself from that horrible memory.

"We should go elsewhere," He whispered, putting the gag down.

"Agreed."

Quietly, the two men left the room, closing the door behind them. They walked towards the end of the hallway, until they found a flight of stairs.

"We must be in the basement," Anthony said. "I bet those lead up to the first floor. There might be a door at the top."

"Possibly," Sweeney said. "Let's go see."

They'd gotten halfway up the stairs when they both stopped.

"Did you hear that?" Anthony asked.

"I did. Shh..." Sweeney said, listening again.

It sounded like someone was sobbing nearby.

"Someone else is here," Sweeney whispered. "We should go find them."

As silently as possible, Anthony and Sweeney followed the sound. It led them down another hallway on the first floor. They soon traced it to one of the first doors on the right.

Feeling confident that the two doctors were not nearby, Sweeney gently tapped on the door of the room that the sobbing was coming from. Suddenly, the crying stopped.

"Hello?" He called, keeping his voice low. "I'm not going to hurt you..."

There was no reply. Sweeney sighed.

"We can hear you crying out here. We know you're in there," He added.

He heard someone take a deep breath, and whimper. Not wanting to wait any longer, Sweeney slowly opened the door and walked into the room, Anthony following closely behind.

It was a small room, with another small, barred window that let in the light. In the middle of it sat a bed, and on the bed sat a small, terrified looking man, with dark hair and pale skin. He was shirtless, and had his arms wrapped around his stomach, as if he were trying to protect himself somehow. As Sweeney and Anthony approached him, he seemed to hold himself tighter and tighter.

"We mean you no harm," Anthony said, trying to seem less threatening. "We're not going to hurt you."

The man's face was streaked with tears and he bit his lip nervously.

"Who are you?" He whispered, still scared.

"My name's Anthony Hope and this here is Sweeney Todd. We heard you crying. Who are you?"

"My name is Ichabod Crane," The man finally replied. Both Sweeney and Anthony noticed that he had an American accent.

"You're not from here," Sweeney stated. "How long have you been here? Did the two doctors take you?"

Ichabod eyed the Englishmen warily, still unsure if he should trust them.

"How do I know you're not... you're not one of them?"

Sweeney considered this for a moment, then realized that he had all the proof he needed right on him. He'd never changed out of his nightshirt, and it was still stained with blood. He held the front of the fabric out to show Ichabod.

"They did this to me."

Ichabod nodded, understanding this. He began to trust the men a little more so.

"They did that to me too, months ago. Or it may have been years. I've lost track of time..." He dropped his arms, revealing his chest. Sweeney immediately noticed that the man's body was very strange looking. He had scars across his chest, mainly on his stomach area, and there was what looked like some type of port that had been surgically put into his side. It looked to be in the same area that Sweeney had found the tube coming out of him.

Ichabod had a beautiful face. Perfect features. His body, though... He was very, very thin, with the exception of his stomach, which protruded in front of him like a ball, and his flesh hung off the bones on his arms. He looked like someone who had gained a lot of weight then lost it very quickly, and his body had not yet caught up. Had it not been for his body, Sweeney would've thought Ichabod to be a very handsome person.

Seeing Sweeney look him over made Ichabod uncomfortable. He knew that he looked hideous, and he was sure that Sweeney was thinking the same thing. He began to wrap his arms around himself again.

"It's okay," Sweeney said. "It's okay. Don't be scared. What happened to you?"

Ichabod closed his eyes, feeling the tears come again. He hated thinking about it all, even if the rape and the pregnancies had been part of his daily life for some time now.

"I... You don't know?" He asked, opening his eyes again.

"That's why we're asking you."

Ichabod nodded. "The two doctors, they work for the government. They're doing experiments on us. They've chosen you for some reason. They chose me because I'm American, and no one would look for me if I were to go missing."

Sweeney remembered what Ada had said about no one missing him. He must've been chosen for a similar reason. And Anthony... Anthony was just a sailor, no real family ties.

"So you were in London, and they took you?" Anthony asked.

"Yes. I had accepted a position working for the police force here, as an investigator. One evening, I heard someone in my flat... Someone rummaging around. I thought it was a burglar, but... They were stronger than me. The next thing I recall is waking up here."

"What happened, then?"

Ichabod sighed. "The cuts... They performed a surgery on you both, just like they did to me. I did not understand it at first either, but in the months to come it became clear. They've surgically created a birth canal within you. The experiments... they're trying to make a male capable of carrying a child."

"So they're trying to impregnate us?!" Sweeney asked in disbelief.

"Yes. They'll likely succeed, too."

Anthony and Sweeney were silent for a moment as they took this all in. Finally, Anthony spoke up.

"Excuse me for asking, but are you... Have you had children?" He felt very odd asking that question.

Ichabod moved his arms, again exposing his stomach. "I am pregnant again now. In the past years, I have been pregnant five times. Each time, the baby died a few months in. The last one was born, but died a few moments later."

The lack of emotion in Ichabod's voice frightened Anthony a little. He thought it odd that this man had seemingly no attachment to the children he was having. Then again, it had been forced on him, so maybe it did make sense.

"I'm sorry," Anthony whispered, unsure of what else to say.

Ichabod shrugged. "It's for the best."

Before the conversation could continue, the three heard footsteps on the floor above them. The doctors were walking around.

"We should get back before they find us missing," Anthony said. "You don't know where the exit is, do you?"

"There's a door at the end of the hall, with a large cross over it. I believe that's the exit."

"You've not tried to leave?" Sweeney asked, confused.

Ichabod frowned. "I am too weak now. I can't walk more than a few feet without having to stop. They've kept me lying down so long... and having the children... it's taken a lot from me."

"I see. Well, rest assured that we fully intend to escape this place, and when we do, we'll be taking you with us."

With that, Sweeney and Anthony left the room, and ran back down towards their beds, making it just in time to avoid getting caught.


	7. Chapter 7

Ch. 7

It turned out that the doctors had come to bring Sweeney and Anthony lunch. By then, Sweeney was starving. He hadn't eaten since at least the evening prior, and his stomach was growling. Still, he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of eating their food. He knew from his experience in prison that eventually, the hunger pains would stop. He could hold out for a few days, at least, and by then, he hoped to be free.

Anthony, however, wasn't as strong-willed as Sweeney and he dove into the food that he'd been given.

Much to Sweeney's surprise, the doctors had not protested when he threw the second tray on the floor. They just walked off, smirking to themselves.

He spent the next several hours lying down, resting and trying to think of a way out. The doctors came back with dinner, and he refused that too.

This time, they cautioned him.

"You'll want to eat that, if you know what's good for you," The man had said, looking Sweeney directly in the eyes. "You do not want to continue to play games."

"I'm not playing games," Sweeney spat. "I just don't want your food."

The doctor nodded. "Have it your way, then."

00

Sweeney and Anthony spent another few hours talking to each other. Both were tired, though, and by nine o'clock, Sweeney was fast asleep, snoring on his bed. He slept peacefully for quite a while.

Then, around two in the morning, the doctors snuck back into the room.

Sweeney awoke to the feeling of someone holding his mouth shut. He tried to move his arms to fight back, but he found that they were tied down. The doctors had restrained him while he slept.

"_Ruhig!_" The doctor hissed. "Do not wake your friend, or there will be consequences!"

Not knowing whether that meant the pair might hurt Anthony, Sweeney stopped trying to yell. He did not protest as the two doctors undid the leather straps holding him down, nor did he protest when they slipped a pair of iron manacles on him.

"Come," The female doctor said, pulling Sweeney by the ear. "Walk."

The doctors led Sweeney down the hall that he'd explored earlier, up the stairs, and into a room not far from the one that Ichabod was in. The room was empty, save for a bathtub in the center and a drain on the floor.

The male doctor dragged Sweeney in.

"Get in the tub," He directed, pointing at it.

Sweeney sighed, but got in. The manacles were kept on.

"Ada," Frederik said, "Please bring the ice."

Ada nodded, and left the room, returning a moment later with a few buckets of ice chunks.

One by one, she dumped them into the bathtub. Meanwhile, Frederik began to run the water. It was nearly as cold as the ice. Sweeney began to shiver and his teeth began to chatter.

"Do you see what happens when you cross us?" Ada asked, grinning.

Sweeney nodded, but made no verbal reply. He wasn't going to give in and apologize.

It wasn't long before the bathtub was filled up and the water was at Sweeney's chest. He continued to shiver. He could feel the goosebumps on his arms, legs, and back, and he wondered if they were going to leave him to freeze to death there.

Then, Frederik turned off the water.

"You will stay here for twenty minutes," He announced. "We will be back for you. Come, Ada."

So began some of the longest twenty minutes of Sweeney's life. The cold was getting painful and his hands and feet were starting to turn blue. He could feel his muscles tensing up in reaction and it hurt.

Finally, the two returned. In one move, Ada unplugged the stopper, while Frederik forced Sweeney to stand.

Despite the water being drained, Sweeney's nightshirt was still cold and wet, and he continued to shiver. Even if he wanted to fight, he was too weak to do so at this point. His body had gone into survival mode, and he was focused solely on remaining alive.

The two doctors led him to another part of the room. It was a small, dark closet. They shoved him inside.

"You will stay until we come back," Frederik said. "If you try to escape, your punishment will be greater."

The doctor closed and locked the door.

Now alone, Sweeney fell back against a wall, and slid down it. He curled up in a corner as best as he could. He pulled up his legs to his chest, trying to keep himself warm and conserve body heat. The closet wasn't freezing, but it was cold enough to make him very uncomfortable, and he wondered if his body could take it. He wasn't young anymore. Maybe if he were twenty, or thirty, it would not have been such a big deal, but at nearly forty, he wasn't sure that his body could take it.

Then, to make matters worse, he began to cry.

Sweeney wasn't really sure why he was crying. He just couldn't help it. He was scared, cold, and nervous, and he wished more than anything to be back at his little apartment above Mrs. Lovett's, in his warm bed, with his warm blankets, safe and sound and sleeping in his own room.

Mrs. Lovett. She had to be looking for him, he thought. She loved him. She would surely be talking to the police, trying to track him down.

For the next hour, he clung to that thought. Mrs. Lovett would bring help soon. At least, he hoped so.


	8. Chapter 8

Ch. 8

The doctors finally came to get him at dawn. His whole body hurt by that point. His back, especially. His muscles had been pulled so tightly that it hurt to even breathe.

The female helped him up and led him back to his bed. Never had he been so happy to see a blanket.

Quietly, she helped him out of the still-wet nightshirt and wrapped a blanket around him.

Frederik then appeared, holding several more blankets. Ada continued to wrap him up, and now, Sweeney could feel that they were warm. The two doctors must have warmed them up for him.

He sighed, feeling the warmth. It felt so good. He would never admit it, but he was thankful for it.

Once he was securely wrapped up and tucked in, Ada and Frederik left. Ada returned a moment later, holding a steaming cup of tea. He sat up when he saw this.

"Drink this," She said, handing it to him.

Sweeney glared at her, but the tea looked so good, and so warm. It would warm him up inside. He knew it. So, he gave in, and slowly took a sip.

"Good boy," Ada said, watching as Sweeney took another sip, then another. He finished the entire cup within a few moments, and Ada took it back from him.

"Lie down now," She said, pushing him back onto the bed.

Sweeney was beginning to get tired. Extremely tired. Lying down seemed like a very good idea. He felt like he could barely keep his eyes open, and then he realized that they'd drugged the tea they'd given him.

Unable to fight it, Sweeney simply closed his eyes, wrapped the blankets tighter around himself, and fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Ch. 9

The next thing that Sweeney was aware of was that there was something poking him in the stomach. He cracked his eyes open and glanced around. No one was there. He could still hear Anthony snoring in the other bed. That poking was really bothering him, though.

Sweeney looked down and saw that he'd been dressed in a new nightshirt. The doctors must've done that while he'd been asleep. This time, though, there was another tube in place. With shaky hands, he pulled up the shirt, gasping when he saw what was there.

They'd inserted a feeding tube into his stomach. That's what the poking was. It was hooked up to a strange-looking port, like the one that he'd seen on Ichabod, and there was an orange liquid moving through the tube. Now that he knew what was going on, he could feel it going into his stomach. It was a weird feeling. He could feel pressure as it continued to pump liquid into him, like he was getting full without actually eating. He wondered how much they were going to make him take.

With one hand, he began to attempt to remove the tube, but it was screwed into the port. The only way he'd be able to get it out, he realized, was by ripping the entire thing out, and he'd probably end up disemboweling himself in the process if he tried that.

Another few moments passed, and Sweeney began to feel sick. He normally did not eat that much to begin with, so the large portion of liquid that was being forced into him made him feel very uncomfortable. His usually flat stomach was starting to stick out, too. Sweeney once again considered ripping the port out, thinking of it as a last resort. Thankfully, just before he attempted it, the liquid in the tube stopped moving.


	10. Chapter 10

Ch. 10

As he was tethered to the bed, Sweeney hardly moved for the rest of the morning. When Anthony woke up, the two had a short conversation, then the doctors had come and taken him away for a bath and a change of clothes, leaving Sweeney alone.

As the hours ticked by, Sweeney began to feel a little better. His stomach didn't hurt as badly and his muscles had stopped tensing up.

Eventually Anthony had been brought back, clean and wearing fresh clothes. The doctors had then unhooked Sweeney's feeding tube, effectively giving him a free range of motion once again. They took him to a washroom, then left with a warning that he'd better eat dinner later, lest he face similar consequences.

Once the two heard the doctor's footsteps fade away, they decided to once again search the premises. Sweeney knew in his heart that it was unlikely that he would escape today. He was still feeling very weak. But at the very least, he hoped that they'd be able to confirm where the exit was. It would be good to go see Ichabod again, as well.

This time, Anthony led the way, Sweeney following closely behind him. They walked down the hall, up the stairs, and into the first room on the right.

Ichabod was on the bed, same as he had been the day prior. He had been looking out the window, and jumped a bit when he heard the door open. He calmed down when he saw who was standing there, though. Sweeney gently shut the door behind them.

"Hello," Ichabod greeted them. "I see you've survived the night. I wasn't so sure if you would."

Sweeney raised an eyebrow. "You knew what happened last night?"

Ichabod nodded. "I heard you... in the closet."

"Oh." Sweeney wasn't sure what else to say to that.

Meanwhile, Anthony was looking Ichabod over. Something seemed different about him today. He looked paler, if that were possible – almost paper white. He had one hand resting on his stomach, and he seemed to be shaking a little. Little beads of sweat had formed on his brow, as well.

"Are you okay?" Anthony asked, concerned.

Ichabod shrugged. "Sometimes I get fevers if...sometimes there's infections..." He trailed off. The American zoned out for a moment before continuing. "...I'll be fine."

Anthony didn't seem so sure. He began to walk closer to the bed. Ichabod flinched as the young man came nearer, like he was afraid that Anthony might hurt him.

"We already told you we aren't going to hurt you," Anthony said, trying to reassure him.

Ichabod merely nodded in agreement.

Anthony held his hand up to Ichabod's head and felt to see how hot he was.

"You're burning up," Anthony noted.

"Yet it's so cold," Ichabod whispered, pulling his blanket up around him more tightly.

Something in the corner of the room caught Sweeney's eye. There were two more blankets folded up on a bureau a few feet away.

"There's two blankets there," He said as he walked towards them. "You could've had those the entire time."

Ichabod just had a sad look on his face and he refused to make eye contact. Then it hit Sweeney. Ichabod had said that he was very weak. He probably couldn't get up to get the blankets himself.

"...Never mind," Sweeney added, picking up the blankets. He handed them to Anthony, who began to wrap them around Ichabod's shoulders. Ichabod seemed to relax as Anthony wrapped him up.

"Thank you," He said, snuggling into the blankets. "I appreciate your kindness."

Sweeney nodded. "Sure." He didn't think he could bring himself to be cruel to this pitiful man. He hated most people, but the truly weak had a soft spot within his hardened heart.

The three waited in an awkward silence for a few moments, before Sweeney spoke up.

"Ichabod, you mentioned yesterday that we're here because they want to... impregnate us." Just saying that made Sweeney feel weird, but he pressed on. "How exactly do they do that?"

"Well, as I told you, they've performed an operation to give you a birth canal."

"But... there's got to be some type of cell that they use, or something, correct?"

Ichabod nodded and took a deep breath. "There is. God, I hope they knock you out for it..."

"For what?"

Once again, Ichabod averted his gaze. "For when they send James to rape you."

"What?!" Sweeney was shocked. He knew he should not have been, but he was. "Who is James? Have you been... taken advantage of, then?"

Tears began to form in Ichabod's eyes. Obviously it was quite painful for him to think about these things.

"Six times," He finally answered. "Well, six times, they were successful... It's happened more often than that. Ten, twelve. Something like that."

"While you were awake," Sweeney tried to confirm.

"Most of the time, but sometimes they've sedated me. If they knew that I would try to fight back, they sedated me. I'd wake up and there'd be a lot of blood... my whole body would be sore. God, it was horrible."

Unsure of what else to do, Anthony rested a hand on Ichabod's shoulder, trying to comfort him. The man didn't shrug him off, at least.

"I'm so sorry," Anthony said sincerely. "You don't deserve that. No one does."

"It's going to happen to you, too. If it hasn't already."

"And this man, James -" Sweeney started, but Ichabod cut him off.

"He's with the government. He's huge, and very, very strong. You'd better hope that they sedate you for it. I can't bear the thought of someone else having to go through that. At least, if you're asleep, you might not feel it..."

Then, Ichabod sighed. He suddenly looked much more tired than he had a few moments prior, as if talking about the subject had drained any remaining energy out of him.

"Is there anything you need?" Anthony asked. "Do you need food or water?"

Ichabod smirked, which looked strange, because he'd just been crying. "They always feed me. Don't worry about that."

"Okay. We'll come back tomorrow to visit you, alright?"

Ichabod shrugged. "If you can. I really hope... I hope it's not too painful for you."

Anthony nodded. "Thank you."

"We'll try to find something for you before we come back. Something to reduce your fever, maybe. Hang in there, Ichabod. We'll get out of here," Sweeney said.

"I hope you're right," Ichabod replied, pulling the blankets around him even tighter. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	11. Chapter 11

Ch. 11

Sweeney and Anthony left the room, hoping to have enough time to check out the door with the cross above it.

As they got closer and closer to it, Anthony noticed something odd.

"Mr. Todd, stop moving," He said.

"Why?"

"Because there's a trip wire over there, near the edge of the door." Anthony and Sweeney looked up and around, and could see that there were two shotguns wired up near the ground. They were not aimed to kill, just to cripple the person trying to get out.

Sweeney sighed. "We just have to be very careful, then."

He took a step forward, eyes fixed on the first line, intending to step over it. He did so and he stepped over the second one, but he didn't see the third one. Without warning, a gunshot fired. Sweeney cringed, thinking that he'd likely been hit, but he didn't feel any pain.

Then, he heard a cry from behind him, followed by a thud. Anthony was sitting on the ground and holding his leg, which was oozing blood.

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry!" Sweeney said, coming to Anthony's side.

Footsteps signaled that the doctors were now approaching, likely having heard the gunshot. They appeared within seconds. Seeing them, Anthony pushed himself onto his elbows and began to drag himself towards the door.

"Come on," He groaned through gritted teeth. "Let's go!"

Anthony had managed to push the door open and had gotten a few feet outside. He felt the snow beneath him, and then he felt someone grab onto him. Ada had wrapped her arms around his waist and was pulling him back in. Meanwhile, Frederik was wrestling with Sweeney.

"Let me go!" Anthony hissed, struggling to get away from the woman. Ada sighed and reached into her pocket, pulling out a syringe. In one swift move, she shoved it into his side, injecting him with the medicine within it.

It didn't take long for the drug to take effect. Anthony was left lying on the ground, face down. As Ada began to drag him back in, Frederik shoved Sweeney to the ground and injected him with the same sedative.

Once Sweeney was unconscious, the two doctors took the time to carry both of their patients back towards their beds. Frederik brought Anthony back first, carrying him bridal style down the hall and down the stairs. He then returned for Sweeney, carrying him down to the beds in the same way. Ada met him there.

"Anthony's leg is fractured," She stated, looking the boy over. "We'll have to set it."

Frederik sighed. "Natürlich."

The two doctors set about finding their equipment and setting Anthony's leg.

"At least it'll make it easier on James tonight," Ada said as they finished. "He won't be able to put up much of a struggle."


	12. Chapter 12

Ch. 12

Halfway through the night, Sweeney was awakened by a horrible sound. It was Anthony, and he was screaming.

"Shut up! Shut up!" Another voice yelled. He heard the smack of the other person's fist against Anthony's face. "Be quiet, or I'll give you a real reason to yell!"

There was another smack, followed by the sound of cloth rustling. The other person was getting undressed.

Sweeney moved to get out of bed, but found that he was stuck. There were leather straps holding his wrists and legs down.

Sweeney stopped moving as he heard Anthony's voice again.

"Please, don't..." The sailor begged. Sweeney could hear him start to cry. "Please!"

"You'll take it and you'll like it, boy!" The other man growled.

Sweeney began to struggle with his bonds again, desperately wanting to help his friend. He could hear Anthony moaning and crying as the other person thrust into him. The man himself was making grotesque noises, grunting and panting.

Suddenly, the man stopped.

"Looks like your friend is listening," He said to Anthony.

Sweeney froze, watching like a deer in sudden light as the man pushed back the curtains surrounding both of their beds.

The man on top of Anthony had blonde hair and was very muscular, much bigger than the teenager that he had pinned beneath him. He had one hand on Anthony's chest and was smushing him into the bed.

"Do you like watching?" The man asked. Sweeney noticed that he had a British accent, not a German one like the doctors. "Are you getting off on this?"

Sweeney didn't answer. Instead, he struggled even harder to get free from the restraints. One of them was loose, he could feel it. The doctors hadn't buckled him in completely.

The man continued to talk as Sweeney struggled. "You were good, too, you know. I enjoyed you. You were asleep and you didn't move much, but you were so tight..."

That was it. The statement enraged Sweeney so much that he felt a sudden burst of energy and managed to rip the restraints away. He got out of bed and made a break for the hallway. If only he could get outside, he could get help.

Sweeney ran as fast as he could, up the stairs, past Ichabod's room, and towards the door. The trip wires had still not been reset and he pushed through, running out onto the snowy street.

He made it about ten feet before he felt someone touch his shoulder. Sweeney spun around, only to see Frederik standing there. He knew that was it. The doctor was going to take him back. And he was right. Frederik grabbed him around the waist, lifted him until his feet didn't touch the ground, and began to drag him back.

Sweeney wanted to cry as the doctor dragged him along. He'd been so close. So, so close.


	13. Chapter 13

Ch. 13

Anthony hadn't spoken much the day after. Sweeney had tried to talk to him, but he'd only gotten one word replies.

For some reason, they'd declined to strap Sweeney to his bed. Maybe they thought he'd just get out again. Either way, Sweeney didn't plan on making a break for it any time soon. At least, not until he knew that Anthony would be capable of going with him, and judging by the sailor's emotional and physical state, it would be a few days.

Sometime around noon, Sweeney noticed that it was quiet again. He slipped out of bed and went to go visit Ichabod.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go?"

Anthony shook his head 'no'.

Sweeney sighed. "I'll be back soon, then."

Quickly, Sweeney made his way upstairs to Ichabod's room. He wondered how Ichabod was doing and wanted to discuss the events of the previous night with him. He found him lying in bed with three blankets wrapped around him. He didn't look as bad as he had the previous day.

"You look better," Sweeney said, by way of greeting.

Ichabod glanced up at him.

"They gave me..." He trailed off. It was then that Sweeney noticed how glazed over Ichabod's eyes were. He seemed like he was having a hard time talking.

"Did they drug you? What happened?"

Ichabod looked he wanted to cry. He didn't answer verbally, but stuck his arm out from underneath the blankets. Sweeney noticed the needle marks on his skin.

"They injected you," He stated.

Ichabod nodded. "S'hard... to talk."

Sweeney frowned, and sat down next to Ichabod on his bed. He felt bad for this man. He seemed so weak and fragile, like he'd break if someone pushed him too far.

Ichabod seemed to relax a little now that there was someone near him. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of protection.

Sweeney sighed and rested a hand on Ichabod's back, rubbing him gently.

"Do you know what they gave you?" He asked after a few minutes.

"Vitamins... fever reducer... painkillers..."

"Ah. You don't feel as hot, so I suppose the fever reducer worked."

Ichabod nodded.

"I suppose you heard what happened yesterday?"

"Heard a gunshot. And screams."

"We tried to get out, but I tripped the wire, and Anthony got shot. It was my mistake. Then, last night, that James fellow came in. He... He took advantage of Anthony. And he said some disturbing things."

Ichabod looked at Sweeney, as if asking him to continue.

"He said that he'd done the same to me, but I wasn't awake."

"Makes sense."

"So does that mean that we're both pregnant, then?"

"Maybe." Ichabod yawned and curled up into a ball under the blankets. "You'll know soon."

"I know you want to sleep, but can you tell me how? How will we know?"

"You'll get sick. I couldn't stop... Was so sick..." He closed his eyes again.

Knowing that he probably wasn't going to get further information from Ichabod until he had recovered more, Sweeney got up.

"I'll come back tomorrow," He said.

Ichabod didn't reply. Sweeney could hear him snoring softly. He closed the door behind him quietly as he left.


	14. Chapter 14

Ch. 14

Two weeks had passed since Anthony was raped and James had not shown up since then. Anthony had finally started talking more again a few days prior, and Ichabod seemed to be doing better too. He wasn't looking quite as sick, at least.

Anthony's leg was still healing. Ada or Frederik checked on it every day, making sure it was still in alignment. They took great care to make sure that he and Sweeney were healthy.

Knowing what they might do if he didn't comply, Sweeney had begun following the doctor's instructions. He ate the three meals a day that they gave him and didn't complain.

This morning, though, Sweeney felt different. He'd woken up early feeling very nauseated. He'd laid in bed for a few minutes, trying to wait it out, but it seemed to get worse and worse. Sweeney had ended up leaning over the side of the bed and vomiting on the floor. Anthony hadn't been feeling too great either, and when he heard Sweeney get sick, he got sick as well. The doctors had walked in to find vomit everywhere.

Neither doctor seemed surprised by this. They'd led Sweeney and Anthony to two separate washrooms to clean up. Sweeney felt weak and had a hard time walking. His stomach still hurt and he felt shaky. Ada noticed and took pains to help him get into the bathtub, then began to run warm water.

Sweeney felt awkward having this woman help him bathe. Previously, they'd let him do it himself, but now that he was sick, the doctors did not seem to want to leave him alone. He tried not to look at her as she used a washrag to clean his back.

After the bath was done, she gave Sweeney a pair of blue pajamas to change into. He was surprised by this. He'd be forced to wear a nightshirt for days now, so having an actual pair of pajamas seemed almost like a treat. Ada then led him back to bed.


	15. Chapter 15

Ch. 15

Even more of a surprise than the pajamas was that the doctors pulled back the curtains to allow Sweeney and Anthony to see each other and talk without restriction. Sweeney noticed that Anthony had also been dressed in a set of pajamas, but that he also looked extremely tired. The boy hadn't been sleeping that well lately. Sweeney knew this, since he could usually hear Anthony tossing and turning all night.

The final acts of the doctors that morning was to bring Sweeney and Anthony sets of warm blankets, along with breakfast and cups of peppermint tea. The tea was meant to help with the morning sickness. Sweeney could remember Lucy drinking it when she'd been pregnant with Johanna. It'd helped a little.

On the downside, the doctors had hooked up the lines once again to their bodies. Anthony had asked what they were giving them, but all the doctors would answer was that it was vitamins.

It wasn't until the late afternoon that Sweeney had a chance to get out that day, and as soon as he did, he made his way upstairs.

00

The first thing Sweeney did, once he was upstairs, was check the exit. The doctors had still not reset the trip wires. Just seeing it made him feel slightly better. It reminded him that there was a chance of escape.

The next thing he did was check on Ichabod. He was surprised by what he saw when he entered Ichabod's room, though. Ichabod was curled up on the bed, crying.

"Ichabod?" Sweeney asked, moving closer. "What's wrong?"

Ichabod had been doing better lately. He'd gotten over whatever infection he'd had, and in the past two weeks, looked a lot healthier. Well, as healthy as he could look, being stuck in bed and five months pregnant. At least, he didn't look so deathly thin and pale as he had back then.

Hearing Sweeney's voice, Ichabod sat up, looked at him, and then... started laughing?

Sweeney was really concerned now.

"Uh... Are you alright?"

Ichabod laughed a little more, then wiped his eyes. "I'm fine. Great, actually."

"But you were just crying." Sweeney was starting to wonder if Ichabod had finally snapped.

"I know. But then you came in."

"Uh... okay."

Ichabod suddenly looked sad again. "You didn't come in the morning like you usually do. I thought something had happened to you."

"Oh." Sweeney understood then. Ichabod had gotten attached to his sole visitor. "I'm fine. I just had a bit of morning sickness this morning."

Ichabod nodded. "I understand. You're finally feeling it, now?"

Sweeney frowned. "I'm definitely feeling it. Does it get any better?"

"It varies by person, really. And by pregnancy. My first two were good, no sickness. The last four were terrible. This one," He said, resting a hand on his stomach. "has been horrendous. They said I've lost ten pounds since I've been pregnant. It's finally starting to come back now."

"You do look a little better."

Ichabod nodded again. "How's Anthony?"

"Sick. Tired. He's started talking again, that's good at least. And his leg is healing."

"Good. I don't think they've touched the exit... Perhaps they forgot about it."

"I think so. That's a good thing, really. As soon as he's strong enough, I'm going to get us all out of here."

Ichabod smiled. "I'd like to believe that."

"I will. I promise," Sweeney said sincerely.

"I know you'll try, at least," Ichabod replied. Then he yawned. "Sorry. I'm a bit tired."

"Go rest. I'll come see you tomorrow." Sweeney turned to leave, then turned back. "And Ichabod, don't worry about me. I'm strong enough to handle whatever they can throw at me."

"Okay," Ichabod answered, "I'll try."


	16. Chapter 16

Ch. 16

The following two weeks went by at a painfully slow pace. By then, both Sweeney and Anthony were almost sure that they were both pregnant. Both were still getting very, very sick in the mornings and felt lethargic all day. The doctors didn't have to tether them to the beds in any way because the two men were both too tired to try to go too far.

Being younger and stronger, Anthony was better able to cope with the morning sickness than Sweeney was. For the barber, it got so bad that Frederik had insisted that he go on a liquid-only diet. It helped a little, but Sweeney still found himself getting sick sometimes.

Worse than that were the shots of vitamins that the doctors insisted on giving them several times a day. In the mornings, they got shots of folic acid. In the afternoons, it was iron. At least the calcium in the evenings came in powder form. The doctors usually mixed it into their drinks or food. But when it came to injections, they used big, painful needles, and it often left their experiments sore.

On the bright side, Anthony's leg was healing nicely, enough so that he was able to accompany Sweeney up to see Ichabod some days.

Ichabod, at least, seemed to be doing much better. As Sweeney and Anthony entered their second months of pregnancy, Ichabod had entered his sixth. It was strange to Sweeney how the young man had seemed to 'pop' after that. He'd been so little before, but now his stomach was huge. He'd mentioned that the doctors had told him he might be having twins, which accounted for the growth, but still, it was strange to look at him.

Besides being bigger, Ichabod seemed to have a glow about him. Sweeney recognized a similar look from when Lucy had been pregnant. He seemed happier in general, despite being cooped up in the room. Almost like he wanted to give birth already. He had mentioned wanting to hold his children a few times, and Sweeney believed it when he said it.

The whole time they were there, Sweeney continued to plot their escape. At the moment, his plan was to run out with Anthony and to grab Ichabod, and it was looking like that would be soon. By what Sweeney thought must've been a miracle from God, the doctors still had not fixed the wires near the exit, so Sweeney assumed that they would not be there that much longer.

Unfortunately for them, a kink was thrown into that plan a week later.

By Sweeney's calculations, he was eight weeks pregnant, while Anthony was seven. It was then that Ada confirmed it. All it'd taken was the use of a stethoscope. She could hear the babies' hearts loud and clear.

Something about this must've triggered something in Anthony's mind. Ada had held the stethoscope up to Anthony's stomach.

"I can hear two heartbeats. Yours, and the baby's."

"It's not possible," Anthony replied, clenching his fists. "You're fucking insane."

"Excuse me?" The doctor replied, shocked that such a nice boy had used such a tone with her.

"I said you're fucking insane, both of you!" Anthony shoved Ada away. "And you're dragging us into your bullshit."

Ada smirked. "Whether or not you choose to believe it, you're pregnant, and you will bear a healthy child for us."

Anthony shook his head. "Fuck you." He began to limp towards the door, for some reason thinking the doctors would make it easy and just let him walk out.

Sweeney, meanwhile, had no idea what to say. He hadn't expected Anthony to act like that. Usually, he was very quiet. If anything, Sweeney had assumed that he would be the one snapping, not his friend.

He watched as Ada quickly caught up with Anthony and grabbed onto his wrist. He wasn't quite strong enough to break free, but even so, Ada began to call for her husband. Frederik appeared in a matter of seconds.

"Wie gehts?" He asked.

Ada and Frederik went back and forth in German for a second while Anthony tried to squirm out of Ada's grasp. Frederik gripped his other arm, though, and soon took over handling him.

"Get back," He barked, shoving Anthony back towards his bed. "Sit down." He pushed the sailor onto the mattress and moved to fastened the restraints around his arms. Anthony merely glared at him the entire time, refusing to show any fear.

"You think it's funny?" Frederik asked once Anthony was sufficiently tied up.

"Fucking hysterical."

Frederik nodded. "We'll see how amusing you think your actions are in a few hours."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 17.

For the next few moments, Sweeney wondered what the doctors were going to do. They were certainly not going to let Anthony get away with this type of behavior. He hoped they didn't do the freezing bath trick with him. That'd been tough. Then again, he hoped that they didn't punish Anthony in some way worse, either.

Anthony did not seem overly concerned. He stared at the wall, not saying anything.

Not ten minutes had passed when the doctor's footsteps could once again be heard coming into the room. This time, it sounded like they were dragging something with them.

Ada pulled back the curtains around both Sweeney and Anthony's beds. Sweeney could see that they had a chair with them. A heavy wooden chair, with very tough-looking arm and leg restraints. He cringed when he thought it might be used for.

Frederik put the chair down in front of Anthony's bed, and began to walk over... to Sweeney.

Anthony seemed surprised by this. He looked on as Frederik forced his friend up.

"Wait, what?" Anthony asked, confused.

Sweeney glanced up at him almost sadly. "They're going to punish me instead of you."

"You're a smart man," Frederik said, grinning. "Perhaps this will teach you to stay in your place." He smiled at Anthony.

Anthony tried to sit up, but was unable to because of the ties binding him to the bed.

"Wait, no! That's not fair! Don't hurt him!"

"It's okay, Anthony," Sweeney said. He'd been punished before. He could handle whatever they had to throw at him.

"Life's not fair," Ada replied.

Together she and Frederik forced Sweeney into the chair, and strapped his arms and legs down. He didn't bother to fight them. It would be a waste of energy, a precious resource that he would surely need to stay alive after whatever they had planned.

"Good man, not fighting back," Ada said patronizingly.

Sweeney said nothing. He looked ahead at the wall, making sure not to look at Anthony at all. He didn't want to hurt the boy worse by making eye contact as he suffered.

"Well, let's get started, then," Frederik said, once again grinning at Anthony. He pulled a pair of rusty pliers out of his pocket.

"Shall we?" He asked his wife.

"Let's."

Starting with the thumb on Sweeney's right hand, Frederik began to pull at the nail.

"Agh... Fuck," Sweeney said, teeth gritted in agony as the nail was slowly and painfully lifted from the nailbed. The cold air of the room hit the wound instantly, causing it to sting even more.

"Ah! Look at that," The doctor said, holding the nail up with the pliers. He showed it to Sweeney, then to Anthony.

"Please, stop!" Anthony begged. "Don't hurt him. Please. Do it to me. Please!"

The doctors said nothing as they began working on Sweeney's index, middle, and ring fingers. It wasn't long before they'd removed all of the nails from his right hand. In another act of torment, they placed the nails on Sweeney's thigh, knowing that he couldn't move to kick them off in any way.

"Should we keep going?" Ada asked.

She glanced over at Anthony. Tears were streaming down the boy's face. Sweeney still did not look at him, trying instead to focus on anything else but the horrible pain he was feeling.

"Hmm. Well, we don't have much planned for the evening." He handed the now blood-covered pliers to his wife. "Why don't you do the honors?"

"Sure."

Ada wasn't as strong as Frederik and it took her more effort to pull the nails on Sweeney's left hand off. This meant that it took her longer to do, which caused Sweeney more pain. Even the stoic barber couldn't help but crying a little. It was terribly painful, besides being insulting. His hands were his livelihood, so to damage them was a kick in the face. At least his nails would grow back, he told himself. It could be worse.

Of course, it got worse in a matter of minutes. Once finished with her part of the procedure, she left the room, returning soon with a carton of salt. Sweeney's breath caught in his throat. He knew where this was going.

Taking her time, Ada coated each of his bloody wounds individually with salt. Sweeney teared up more as each one sent white-hot sparks of pain up into his hands and arms. It felt like his fingers were on fire.

By this point, Anthony was in hysterics.

"I'm so sorry," He cried. His voice was thick with tears and it was almost impossible to understand what he was saying. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry…"


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 18

Eventually, the doctors had cleaned and bandaged Sweeney's fingers, and Anthony had cried himself to sleep.

As he sat in the next bed, listening to Anthony snore softly, Sweeney realized that he felt no anger towards the boy. The doctors were the ones who deserved to die.

Even though it'd been hours since the event, Sweeney's fingers still hurt. It made it very hard for him to sleep. Exhaustion finally overtook him in the early morning hours.

00

The next day, the doctors acted like nothing had happened. Anthony, on the other hand, repeatedly apologized. He felt terrible that his actions had caused Sweeney harm. Sweeney had forgiven it and had told him so. That made Anthony feel a little bit better. And, realizing that Anthony had learned his lesson, the doctors took the restraints off.

Later on, the two had snuck out to see Ichabod. It took Anthony a bit longer to get around because he was still limping, but his leg was mostly healed.

When they finally got upstairs, they found Ichabod looking rather content, reading a book in bed.

"Hello," He said, smiling at them. His smile faded when he saw Sweeney's hands.

"What happened to you?!" He asked. "What happened to your hands?"

"It's my fault," Anthony replied. "I yelled and cursed at them and they... They hurt him instead."

"My God..." Ichabod said. "What'd they do?"

"Pulled off my fingernails with a rusty set of pliers. Then they salted the wounds." Ichabod was a little unnerved at Sweeney's calm tone.

"Oh..."

"They'll grow back."

"Right. They will," Ichabod answered. "What else is going on?"

"They confirmed that we were pregnant yesterday," Sweeney said. "Heard the babies' heart beats."

"Wow. Well, at least you know for sure."

"And you? You seem happy."

Ichabod shrugged. "I shouldn't be, but for some reason, I am. Ada said that I was having twins."

"You had thought that before, yes?"

"Yes. She heard three heart beats. Mine, and the two babies'."

"Good?" Sweeney asked. He wasn't really sure what to say. Odds were that Ichabod wouldn't get to keep the babies, even if they managed to survive the coming months.

After an awkward moment of silence, Ichabod spoke up again.

"Anyway, if you're two months along, which I am guessing you are, since she heard the heartbeats, you'll be having your first exam soon." Ichabod cringed a bit as he said this.

"Exam?" Anthony asked.

"They'll be giving you examinations, soon. Just... be prepared. They tend to be rather painful."

"I see."

"Nothing you won't recover from, but you'll get them every month. I find... I find it's best to imagine that you're somewhere else. And don't get upset, or they'll just laugh. That's the worst."

"I see," Anthony repeated.

"Right." Sweeney added. "Thank you for the warning."

Ichabod nodded.

"We should be going," Sweeney said. The doctors would be coming back soon. "We'll see you later."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!

Ch. 19

Nothing happened for the next two weeks. The doctors went about their daily routines, giving the men their vitamins and food and all of that. Since neither had "acted up", there were no punishments.

One Friday, Ada came down earlier than usual. She woke Sweeney up first.

"Wake up," She said sternly, shaking him in a not-so-gentle fashion.

Sweeney cracked an eye open, feeling somewhat more disheartened than usual to see the doctor. He'd been having a good dream. He'd been back at his shop, with Mrs. Lovett and Toby, and he hadn't been pregnant.

"Come with me," The doctor instructed.

Knowing better than to question her, Sweeney got out of bed, quietly following the woman.

This time, they went somewhere new in the building. She led him up two flights of stairs to a second floor where there were several more rooms.

"Here," She said, leading him to the second door down.

Sweeney could not help but sigh when he saw what was inside. There was a table with two metal stirrups attached. That sat in the center of the room. To the side, there was a table, littered with various medical instruments, no doubt used to perform an internal examination. None of it looked pleasant in any way.

Resigned to just get this over with as quickly as possible, Sweeney began walking towards the chair. Ada stopped him.

"First," she said. "Undress."

Sweeney tried not to blush as he pulled his pajamas off. He folded them neatly and handed them to Ada, who smiled at him. It made him even more uncomfortable.

"Now," She said, holding up a paper tape measure. "We do measurements. Then the rest. Hold up your arms."

Sweeney did as he was told while Ada measured his chest and waist. She wrote down the measurements on a piece of paper that she kept on the nearby table.

When she was done, she pointed to the table. Sweeney sighed again, but laid down.

"Feet in," She said, pointing at the stirrups.

Sweeney put his feet into them. Ada dragged a stool over, and maneuvered the chair so that she could get good look.

Trying to ignore the horror that was building inside of him, Sweeney glanced over at the wall. There was a window, and the beautiful morning sunlight showed in. He briefly wondered if anyone could see him in there, but then he remembered that he was on the second floor. At least the doctors had given him that modicum of privacy.

His thoughts were brought back to reality when Ada spoke up.

"You will feel pressure," She warned. A second later, she inserted the speculum into his birth canal. The area was still extremely sensitive, and Sweeney gasped as he felt it. As Ada had said, he felt extreme pressure there. It got worse when Ada began prodding his lower stomach, feeling around for what felt like hours but was likely no more than a minute.

"Hmm," She said, before removing the tool. Sweeney closed his eyes, praying that this would be the end of it, that she would let him go and hide in his bed and sleep off the embarrassment he felt.

It wasn't too be, though.

"This is odd," She said, seemingly talking to herself. "I must go get Frederik." She glared at Sweeney. "Move and there will be consequences!"

Sweeney swallowed and nodded, knowing that Ada was serious.

Frederik entered a moment later and performed a similar exam. Feeling both doctor's sets of eyes watching him, knowing that they were seeing the most intimate parts of his body, Sweeney tried his best not to cry.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 20

After the exam, the two doctors marched Sweeney back to his bed. He walked very slowly, as he was still sore. Ada had found a cut inside him, and Frederik had confirmed that it was there before applying some type of cream to help heal it. It had hurt tremendously, and Sweeney still felt uncomfortable moving. He'd known that the cut was there, since he'd felt it burning from time to time, but he had been trying to ignore it.

Once he was back at his bed, Sweeney crawled in, pulled the covers up to his nose, and proceeded to hide from the world. Words could not describe how humiliated he felt. He closed his eyes, hoping that the doctors would go away soon.

00

A second later, Sweeney could hear the doctor's footsteps as they left his bedside and went towards Anthony. The boy got up and followed them without much of a fight. He feared the consequences of crossing them.

Sweeney briefly wondered how Anthony would react to the extreme invasion of privacy that was about to take place.

He fell asleep after that, not dreaming about much of anything. About an hour, he woke up, though, to the sound of someone near him retching.

Sweeney sighed, and then glanced over. The curtains between his bed and Anthony's were drawn, but it was obviously Anthony that was getting sick. Not hearing any other voices or anyone else in the room, Sweeney pulled the curtains back.

"Are you all right?" He asked. Anthony was very pale, sweating, and holding a sheet tightly around him.

Anthony shook his head 'no' and continued to throw up on the floor.

Sweeney frowned and pushed himself up. He was immediately reminded of what had occurred early because of the burning, pulsing feeling of pain between his legs. He tried to forget it as he went to comfort his friend. He took a seat on Anthony's bed and rubbed his back as he got sick.

Finally, it seemed like Anthony was done. Sweeney took his hand off of Anthony's back and looked him in the eyes. He noticed that the blonde's eyes were bloodshot and tearing.

"It was that bad?" He asked, after a long silence.

"It was horrible," Anthony answered, tears now streaming down his face.

Sweeney nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry that you're so upset."

Anthony nodded.

"I guess someone should tell them to come clean this up," Sweeney said, gesturing at the mess on the floor.

"Yes."

"So… I guess I'll go tell them, then."

"Okay."

Knowing that he wasn't going to get anything besides one-word answers from Anthony, Sweeney hobbled off to go get Ada or Frederik


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 21.

The next few weeks were calm. Sweeney and Anthony followed their daily routine. They'd hit three months pregnant and soon started noticing the changes in their bodies. The changes were slight and others probably would not notice any difference, but both men saw that their stomachs were not quite as flat.

On this particular morning, a month and a half after their exams, Sweeney and Anthony were quietly reading. A loud scream from the first floor interrupted their silence.

"What was that?" Anthony asked, putting his book down.

"Sounded like Ichabod."

There was another cry, followed by two steps of footsteps.

"Why's he screaming?"

"How the hell should I know?" Sweeney snapped.

Anthony looked a bit hurt at the way he'd said it, and Sweeney apologized. Lately he'd been feeling extremely moody. And while Anthony's morning sickness had gotten somewhat better, his had gotten somewhat worse. It was a fight for him to keep every meal down.

"Should we go check on him?" Anthony queried after a third cry was heard.

"I think we have to," Sweeney replied. "We just can't let them see us."

Anthony nodded in agreement. The two slipped out of bed and began to quietly walk up the stairs.

They stopped outside the door to the first floor, only about ten feet or so from the entrance to Ichabod's room. Both could hear that there was a lot going on in there. Ichabod was yelling and the two doctors were talking at each other in German.

Ichabod had stopped screaming and had started actually crying now, and it seemed to be grating on the doctors. At least, it was to Frederik, because a second after Ichabod started sobbing, he ordered Ada to "make him shut up."

Ichabod stopped crying after that. Or they'd made him stop. Either way, it got a lot quieter.

"Stay here," Sweeney said. "I'm going to go look."

Anthony frowned, but agreed. He watched as Sweeney slowly crept over to the room and glanced inside. It was only a second later that he turned around, looking several shades paler, and began walking back towards Anthony.

"We have to go."

"Why?"

"Just… I'll explain when we're back."

So the two went back downstairs towards their beds.

"What happened? What'd you see?" Anthony asked, once they were sitting.

"He was in labor."

"Oh. But… it's a bit premature, isn't it? I thought he was only eight months along."

"It is. He was in a lot of pain. There was a lot of blood."

"Oh." Anthony wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I hope he's alright," He finally whispered. "We should go check on him later."

"Yes. Yes we should."

00

The commotion upstairs finally died down around eight that evening, a full ten hours after it'd started. Ichabod must've had a slow and painful labor, but all was silent now.

Ada had appeared an hour earlier, covered in blood, but bearing food for the two men. Neither could eat it, knowing that their friend was either dead, injured, or very sick upstairs. Sweeney especially couldn't find it in himself. The sight of Ichabod, lying on the bed, legs spread and covered with blood and screaming, came to him every time he closed his eyes.

Sweeney put the food off to the side, intending to find a place to dispose of it later. He motioned for Anthony to get up.

Again, they made the trip upstairs.

"It's so quiet," Anthony whispered.

"Too quiet, almost."

"Do you think he's…" Anthony started, but trailed off, not wanting to finish his own question.

"Dead? I don't know. We'll have to see."

The door to Ichabod's room was shut tightly, so Sweeney opened it slowly, trying his best not to make any noise. He took a deep breath as he slipped inside the room, Anthony right behind him.

To their relief, Ichabod was still on the bed, and apparently awake. Even the blood that Sweeney had seen previously had been cleaned up. He had a strange, dazed look on his face that he got when he'd been drugged before.

"Mr. Todd…" Ichabod whispered, looking at Sweeney, then Anthony.

"We came to see if you were all right."

Ichabod shook his head. "I'm okay. Nothing much different than from the previous times."

"I see. And… the children?"

Ichabod looked very sad. "I don't think they made it. Ada wouldn't tell me but… I don't think so."

"I'm sorry," Anthony offered. Sweeney offered similar condolences.

"I guess I thought that because they'd lived so long as they had, that maybe there was a chance," Ichabod continued. "But I'm not as strong, and they came early. I should not have felt any attachment. It's my fault for feeling it. I… I… I couldn't help it, though. Do you understand?" Ichabod looked like he was about to cry again.

"I understand," Anthony answered. He also felt something towards the being growing inside of him. Even if he hadn't actually wanted it or planned it.

Sweeney, however, did not seem to feel the same. He did nod his head, though. He then busied himself looking for a handkerchief for Ichabod. When he finally found one, folded up on a dresser, he handed it over. Ichabod took it gratefully and blew his nose and wiped his eyes.

"It'll just happen again," Ichabod said, more to himself than the others. "I have to learn to not get upset."

It was then that Sweeney realized that he had to get them all out soon. He couldn't let Ichabod go through the same thing again, nor could he allow himself or Anthony to remain there and suffer.

"We'll be out soon," He said confidently. "I promise."


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 22

A few days after Ichabod had given birth (and lost the babies – Ada had confirmed that later), Anthony woke up in the middle of the night.

He didn't feel right. Something was off. The place of his incision was throbbing.

Noting that Sweeney was gently snoring in the bed next to him, he reached down to feel what was wrong. He was shocked to feel something wet on his hand. He was bleeding.

"Oh my God," He whispered as he felt more throbbing. It seemed like there was blood everywhere, but without a light, he couldn't tell for sure.

One thing, though, was that the mere thought of it terrified him. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down, but it was not of much use. Soon enough, he was starting to whimper and cry.

The sound of him sobbing must've woken Sweeney up, because within a few minutes, he heard the other man stirring.

"Anthony? That you?" Sweeney asked.

"It's okay, Mr. Todd," Anthony replied, trying to hide the fear in his voice. He didn't want to trouble Sweeney again. He'd done that too many times before.

Sweeney wasn't stupid, though, and he could hear that his friend was crying.

Sighing softly, he searched around for a candle and match that the doctors usually left next to his bed. They never let Anthony have a candle. Sweeney didn't really know why, but he assumed that it had to do with them not trusting him.

He found the candle and lit it. He then began to make his way over to Anthony.

The first thing he noticed was the massive, dark stain on Anthony's bed sheets. Anthony saw it too, and began to cry harder.

"I'm bleeding," He sobbed, gripping the bedsheets tightly. "It's so much blood."

Sweeney took a deep breath. There _was_ a lot of blood there, but crying wouldn't stop the bleeding.

"Anthony, calm down," Sweeney said. "You need to calm down."

"What am I gonna do?" Anthony wailed. "I can't just... ask them for help!"

"I know, I know." Sweeney thought for a moment. When Lucy had been on her monthlies, she'd used cloth to stop the bleeding. This was a bit different, but he still wondered if it might help.

Quickly, Sweeney walked back to his bed, and pulled the top sheet off. He presented it to Anthony a moment later.

"Sit on this. It'll help stop the blood."

Anthony sniffled, but took the fabric and looked it over. He looked up at Sweeney.

"I'll go. Let me know when you're done."

Anthony sniffed again and watched as Sweeney left his bedside.

It only took him a few seconds to place the fabric where it was needed. He felt better just knowing that something was stopping the bleeding.

"Mr. Todd..." He called. He sounded calmer.

"Coming."

Sweeney re-appeared soon enough.

"Got it?"

Anthony nodded.

"Good. Are you going to be okay?"

"No. They're going to... look at me, tomorrow."

"Likely, yes."

Anthony began to cry again. "I don't want them to look at me!"

Sweeney frowned, and sat down next to Anthony. Though he wasn't a particularly touchy- feely person, he ended up pulling the sailor into a hug and holding him for a while, at least until he calmed down enough to go back to sleep.

00

The problem was that Ichabod had not recovered from childbirth all that well, and had spent most of the past weeks nearly completely able to move, and living in a feverish haze. The doctors didn't even seem to be trying to help him anymore. Most likely, they figured that the man had outlived his usefulness to them as a breeder. He would be too weak to carry any more children, so best just to let him die.

Sweeney and Anthony continued to visit him daily, but one day, they came in and found him worse off than usual. Ichabod didn't even seem to be coherent. He didn't recognize Sweeney or Anthony, and had tried to crawl away from them when he saw them. It'd taken a large amount of convincing by both men to get him to let up and let them come closer. When they did, Anthony carefully reached out, and touched Ichabod's forehead.

"He's burning up. Mr. Todd, he's going to die soon unless he gets help."

Ichabod said nothing in response to this, just stared at Anthony with a terrified look on his face and shied away further.

Sweeney sighed. He knew that Anthony was right. Ichabod did look like he was on death's door. He was paler than Sweeney and much too thin. His ribs were clearly visible through his thin nightshirt.

"We'll go tonight, then," Sweeney replied.

Anthony perked up a little at this. "Should we really try again? How's he going to get out?"

"I'll have to carry him, obviously."

Anthony was going to question this too, but thought better of it. If Sweeney thought he could do it, he probably could. Ichabod couldn't possibly weigh that much anyway.

"Alright, then," Anthony answered.

"We'll go after dinner. They won't be expecting it. We'll run up here, get him, then make a run for the door. It's all we can do. They've yet to repair the trip line near it."

"Alright. I just hope this time we make it."

"Me too," Sweeney replied. "Me too."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 23

The doctors came in at six o'clock, as usual, to give Anthony and Sweeney their dinner. Both men accepted it quietly, not wanting to arouse any suspicion. They had let the doctors give them their usual shots as well.

After the shots, the doctors began to get ready to leave, stating that they'd be back in the morning.

Sweeney watched as they exited the room and glanced over at Anthony. The boy was nervously picking at the bread he'd been given.

"Just a few more minutes," Sweeney said.

Anthony took a deep breath, but nodded in agreement.

Both could hear the doctor's footsteps ascending the stairs to the first floor, then up to the second floor. This was good. If they were on an entirely different level, then it'd be harder for them to catch up.

Sweeney put his tray onto the small table near his bed. "Ready?"

"Yes."

Anthony put his tray down, and the two quietly snuck out of the room.

As they approached Ichabod's room, they noticed that there were no sounds coming from it. He was probably asleep. Sweeney didn't know if this was good or bad. If he grabbed Ichabod and tried to carry him out, he would probably wake up and fight back. That in mind, he decided to wake Ichabod before running out with him.

The two men walked into Ichabod's room, leaving the lights off. They could barely see, save for the light of the moon shining through the window.

Sweeney took a deep breath, placed one hand over Ichabod's mouth, and used the other to shake his arm. He didn't know whether or not Ichabod would scream.

Thankfully, he didn't. He merely cracked his eyes open, looking at Sweeney dully. Sweeney removed his hand. Just having had the short amount of contact with Ichabod's flesh told him that the man was still very sick.

"Can you understand me?" Sweeney whispered.

Ichabod thought about the question for a moment before nodding.

"Do you know who I am?"

Ichabod slowly nodded again.

"Good. Then I need you to keep quiet. I'm going to lift you up, and we're going to run out. Understand? All I need you to do is stay silent and not fight me."

Ichabod slowly nodded for a third time. He was too sick to feel anything more than complete and total apathy. Had he been in his right mind, he'd have probably been nervous.

Sweeney looked at Anthony.

"Alright, then." The barber turned his attention back to Ichabod and picked him up bridal style. The constable was extremely light, considerably lighter than Sweeney had thought he'd be. No doubt he'd lost a significant amount of weight in the past few weeks.

Sure that Ichabod was secure in his arms, Sweeney and Anthony began to take off, leaving the room and running down the hallway as fast as they could. Anthony was ahead of Sweeney and was the first to get to the door.

Something must have alerted the doctors, because at that moment, they could hear their footsteps as they rushed down the stairs.

"GO!" Sweeney yelled. "OPEN THE DOOR!"

Anthony pushed the door open just as the doctors made their way onto the first floor. They had begun to chase them, and were also running as fast as they could manage.

Anthony and Sweeney ran outside.

"DON'T STOP!" Sweeney yelled, watching as Anthony ran down the street ahead of him.

He couldn't tell if the doctors were behind him, but he assumed that they were, and even though his legs and lungs burned, Sweeney refused to slow down. It was only another few blocks to Fleet Street.

As they ran down the first block, Sweeney could hear the doctors begin to shout. They were still coming. Frantically, they yelled for others to 'stop them', but no one did. At that moment, Sweeney was extremely grateful for small miracles such as this.

After the second block, the voices died down. He was sure that they were still coming, though, so he pushed himself to continue.

Now, Ichabod had started to feel heavy. It was because Sweeney's arms were tired, though, as was the rest of him.

By the third block, he wasn't sure that he could make it. Everything hurt. Anthony was still running ahead of him.

Then, just as Sweeney felt like he'd surely collapse, he was greeted by the familiar sight of Mrs. Lovett's front door.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 24

For some reason, when Sweeney saw it, he began to get tired. With Ichabod being unconscious, he was carrying dead weight and it was wearing on him. Anthony must've picked up on this, because he started urging Sweeney on.

"We're almost there, Mr. Todd! Keep going!"

Sweeney nodded and picked up the pace. Once they reached the building, Anthony swung the door open, and with his last bit of strength, Sweeney followed him up the stairs, taking Ichabod with him.

They threw open the door to Sweeney's shop and ran inside. Sweeney carried Ichabod into his bedroom, put him down on the small bed, and then, free of his burden, collapsed on the floor.

00

Meanwhile, Mrs. Lovett and Johanna were downstairs. They'd met every afternoon since Sweeney and Anthony had disappeared. They would occasionally think up ways to try to find them. Other times, it was just nice to have someone there to share in the pain.

The two were sitting and talking when they heard the footsteps.

"What was that?" Mrs. Lovett asked, looking up at the ceiling.

"It sounds like someone was running into the parlor."

Mrs. Lovett looked confused. "But who would want to run up there? Unless..."

The two took off running. They ran up the stairs and into Sweeney's shop, where they found Anthony sitting on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

"Anthony!" Johanna yelled, running towards him. She wrapped her arms around him, knocking the wind out of him. "I missed you so much! I was so worried!"

"I... I missed you too, Johanna," Anthony panted. "Go check on Mr. Todd, though..."

Before Johanna could get up, she heard Mrs. Lovett's voice.

"Mr. Todd!" She yelled. "Johanna, he's in here!"

Johanna got up and walked into the bedroom. Sweeney was sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the side of the bed. She looked up and noticed the other man lying on the bed, apparently asleep.

"Wait, who's that?" She asked.

Mrs Lovett leaned down and shook Sweeney's shoulder. "Mr T! Mr T! Wake up!"

Slowly, Sweeney opened his eyes.

"Mrs Lovett..." He sighed. "We made it..."

"Yes, Mr. T! You did! Oh, Lord, it's so nice to see you again!"

Something crossed Sweeney's mind.

"Thanks... but before we go on, lock the door, will you?"

00

Once the door was locked and barricaded, Sweeney felt better. It would be hard for the doctors to get them.

Mrs. Lovett had just finished pushing another chair up against the door when she noticed something.

"Mr. T! What... What happened to you?!" She asked, pointing at his stomach. Sweeney hadn't realized how noticeably pregnant he was now. He'd gotten so used to it, it hadn't even really crossed his mind.

"I think Anthony has it too." Johanna was staring at Anthony's stomach with wide eyes. "Would one of you care to explain?"

"Calm down!" Sweeney yelled. "I'll explain it all. First, we need to get him some help." He glanced at Ichabod. "He's very sick."

Mrs. Lovett nodded and began looking Ichabod over. "Who is he?"

"He was with us when we were in captivity. His name is Ichabod Crane. He gave birth a week ago and I think he's got an infection."

"...Gave birth?" Johanna questioned, looking at Sweeney with wide eyes.

"Yes. He had a baby. It was stillborn. Listen, I know this sounds strange, even unbelievable, but you must trust me. He needs help."

"Okay," Johanna replied as she helped Mrs Lovett flip Ichabod onto his back. The women could just feel the heat radiating off of him. He was asleep, but sweating, and very, very pale.

"He's got a fever," Mrs. Lovett noted. "You said that he gave birth. You mean, he was cut open, yes?"

Sweeney shook his head. "He has a birth canal."

Mrs. Lovett's jaw dropped a little. "A birth canal."

"I'll explain later."

"...If you say so."

There was an awkward silence as Mrs. Lovett decided what to do. Finally, she announced that she and Johanna would need some time alone to help Ichabod. Sweeney and Anthony then left the bedroom, and went out into the main parlor, where they both promptly found places to lie down and fell asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 25

Back in the bedroom, Mrs. Lovett and Johanna were in the process of attending to Ichabod. Though they both felt a bit embarrassed about it, they undressed him, cleaned him up, and re-dressed him in one of Sweeney's old night shirts. The worst part was the condition he was in. His lower half was covered in blood. It'd dried on his legs, and looked like it'd been there for days.

"I've never seen someone quite like this," The baker said as she used a rag to clean the blood off. "Look at him. He looks like he's not moved in months!"

Johanna nodded in agreement. Ichabod's legs were very thin, as if he had no muscle there at all. The rest of him was quite tiny, too. Had it not been for the loose skin and stretch marks on his stomach, neither woman would've ever believed that he'd been pregnant.

The feeling of the cold water on his skin soon woke Ichabod up. He groaned as he first regained consciousness, feeling like he'd been hit by a carriage.

"He's awake," Mrs. Lovett whispered, moving closer to his face. "Dear, open your eyes."

Ichabod groaned again, but opened his eyes.

"Where am I?" He asked weakly.

"Mr. T bought you here. I'm Eleanor Lovett and this is Miss Johanna Barker. How are you feeling?"

Ichabod glanced down, noticing that he was no longer dressed in the dirty nightshirt that he'd been wearing for the past several days.

"Terrible," He answered truthfully.

"You've got quite the fever. Mr. T mentioned that you just had a baby?" Mrs. Lovett still felt odd saying that, but she tried to ignore it.

"Yes," Ichabod whispered. "Six days ago."

"I think you have an infection. Whoever was taking care of you... Or not taking care of you, did not clean your wound."

Ichabod nodded. "I know."

"We cleaned you up, now all you can do is rest. Hopefully, your body will take care of itself. I'm afraid you'll be here for quite a while, though. You'll need to rebuild your strength."

Ichabod closed his eyes again, feeling extremely humiliated that these two women had seen him naked. It had to be done, though.

Mrs Lovett could see the man's cheeks turning red.

"Now, now, don't be embarrassed. You needed attention, was all. It's alright."

Ichabod was about to reply, when he felt the familiar feeling of nausea return. The small amount of food that he had in his system was about to make a re-appearance.

"I feel sick," He said, frantically searching for a bucket or something, anything that he could use.

Johanna ran to the other side of the room, and grabbed a large bowl that Sweeney had typically kept water in for washing his razors. She handed it to Ichabod, just in time. As soon as he had it in his hands, Ichabod began to vomit. His whole body was shaking as he got sick, and he was sweating. It seemed like every heave was painful for him.

Not knowing what else to do, Johanna began to rub Ichabod's back and smoothed his hair away from his face.

"It's okay." She cooed. "It'll be alright."

Ichabod continued to get sick for a while longer. He himself was surprised that there was so much coming up. He wondered if maybe he'd been eating more than he thought. Then he realized that a lot of it was blood.

Mrs. Lovett noticed this too, but tried her best not to look worried. She made sure to make a mental note of it.

Finally, after five agonizing moments, Ichabod was done. He shakily put the bowl down on the floor, and collapsed back against the bed, still sweating.

"So... cold…" He muttered, shivering now. "So cold…"

Mrs Lovett frowned. "Johanna, dear, do you think you can find another pair of socks for Mr. Crane here to wear? And some blankets, too." She looked at Ichabod again. "Don't worry, love, we'll get you warmed up."

Johanna searched Sweeney's bureau until she found two pairs of knit socks that she knew the he rarely wore. They'd be warm enough, and she didn't think Sweeney would mind. She then found a few extra quilts in the closet, and brought them over.

Mrs. Lovett took them from her, gingerly began to put the socks on the sick man, and wrapped the blankets around him.

Soon enough, Ichabod fell back asleep. Johanna and Mrs. Lovett decided to let him rest. They had to talk to Sweeney and Anthony, anyway.

00

"I feel bad waking them up," Johanna said as she walked into the parlor. Sweeney and Anthony were sitting up against the wall, both fast asleep.

"We need to, though," Mrs Lovett said, walking over to them. She knelt down near Sweeney and gently shook him awake, while Johanna did the same for Anthony.

"Sorry to wake you, love," Johanna said. "But we need to talk."

"It's okay," Anthony replied.

The two women helped Sweeney and Anthony stand, then led them over to the couch near the fireplace. Johanna began to start a fire, while Mrs. Lovett did the speaking.

"So... Tell us what happened," She started.

"Well... I had gone to the pub to have a drink one night. Someone drugged my ale. Next thing I knew, I was in a bed at a hospital…" Sweeney trailed off. The memories of all that had happened were still very painful for him.

"At a hospital?" Mrs. Lovett asked, wanting Sweeney to continue.

Sweeney took a deep breath before talking again. "At Mater's Children's Hospital. They were two German doctors that took us there, a husband and a wife, and they began performing… experiments."

Mrs. Lovett's eyes got wide. "What kind of experiments?"

"They took us there to impregnate us," Anthony spoke up. "They performed surgery... and gave us birth canals... and… God, it was so horrible, all of it."

Johanna and Mrs. Lovett felt like they wanted to cry. The pain of the events was clearly written on Sweeney and Anthony's faces.

"How... How far along are you?" Johanna finally asked.

"About five months. Mr Todd is a bit further along than I am."

Sweeney nodded and rested a hand on his stomach.

"I see," Mrs. Lovett replied.

"We, uh... We'd understand if you'd wanted us to leave," Sweeney said softly. His tone was very uncharacteristic of him, but the past five months of torture had made him more submissive. "We just need somewhere to stay for a few days until we can find another place to go."

Mrs. Lovett and Johanna were shocked by this statement.

"You're not going anywhere!" Mrs. Lovett answered. "No, no. You'll both stay here,

where we can take care of you."

"Thank you," Sweeney and Anthony replied at once.

"Of course. Now, let's get you two some clean clothes, and you can take baths, and we'll make you something to eat."


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 26

"I think we should move downstairs, to my apartment," Mrs. Lovett suggested. Anthony and Sweeney had taken baths and were now dressed in warm pajamas. Ichabod had just woken up, but was still lying in bed.

"Why?" Sweeney asked. He liked his little home.

"It's got more room. There's my bedroom, and the guest room, and Ichabod can sleep on the couch in front of the fire, since he's so cold."

"Hm," Sweeney was considering it.

"I think it's a good idea," Anthony piped up. "I personally would like to share a room with Johanna. And Ichabod does need his own place to stay. He can't sleep in your bed the whole time."

"True. Alright, okay. We'll go," Sweeney agreed.

So, Sweeney and Anthony led the way downstairs, while Mrs. Lovett and Johanna helped Ichabod down. Just walking down a fight of stairs had been a lot for the poor constable, and by the time he got into Mrs. Lovett's apartment, he was panting and hardly able to stand, even with assistance. Quick as they could, they set him on the sofa.

Once Ichabod seemed to catch his breath, Mrs. Lovett and Johanna set to making a quick dinner. Within an hour, they'd manage to get a shepherd's pie together.

Just smelling the food made Sweeney extremely hungry. He hadn't eaten solid food in several weeks. As soon as they sat down and Mrs. Lovett served the food, he dug into it. Anthony and Ichabod, on the other hand, just picked at it. Seeing Sweeney shove the food into his mouth, Mrs. Lovett put a hand on his arm, making him stop.

"Slow down, or you're going to make yourself sick," She warned him.

Sweeney rolled his eyes and shrugged her warning off, continuing to eat like a starving dog and taking a second portion within a couple of minutes of having had his first.

Anthony and Ichabod eyed him warily, but said nothing. They couldn't really blame him for being so hungry.

After he finished his second piece of pie, Sweeney began to regret his actions. His system wasn't used to having actual food in it, and he felt a weird combination of overly full and nauseated.

"This was a bad idea," He mumbled, pushing his plate away and resting a hand on his stomach.

"Told you not to eat that fast!" Mrs. Lovett said. Her annoyance turned to sympathy when she saw how pitiful Sweeney looked. He was giving her his pathetic puppy dog eyes.

"Damn it. You know I can't stay mad at you when you do that," She said, frowning.

"I don't feel good," He said, still looking at her sadly.

"Ergh... Alright, Mr. T. Let's get you to bed. Maybe if you lie down, you'll feel better."

Mrs. Lovett stood up, and walked over to Sweeney, took him by the arm, and helped him up. She led him to her bedroom and pulled the covers back on the bed.

"Lie down," She instructed.

Sweeney quietly got into bed, still looking pathetic as he did so.

Mrs. Lovett then wrapped the blankets around him.

"Just try to rest. You'll feel better soon. But if not, there's a chamber pot in the corner." She pointed.

Sweeney nodded and yawned.

Mrs. Lovett smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead. She then blew the candle that she'd be using to light the room out, and let him try to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 27

By the time Big Ben chimed eleven times, everyone was asleep. Anthony and Johanna were cuddled up in the guest room, Johanna's arms wrapped around him. Despite the fact that Johanna was not a large or very strong woman, Anthony felt incredibly safe near her. It helped him sleep.

Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett were in her bedroom, snuggled together. Sweeney had gotten closer and closer to Mrs. Lovett while he slept, subconsciously wanting to be nearer to her. Mrs. Lovett wrapped an arm around Sweeney as he snuggled up, resting his head on her chest. She used her other hand to play with his hair. The action seemed to soothe Sweeney in some way, and he seemed to sleep better.

The two laid there for a long time, before the sound of someone yelling took Mrs. Lovett's attention. It was coming from the living room, where Ichabod was staying. Sighing, Mrs. Lovett slowly extracted herself from Sweeney, got up, shrugged into her housecoat, and made her way out to see what was going on.

Ichabod was curled up on the couch, crying and batting at the air as if he were trying to fend off some attacker. Every few seconds he'd say something like, "Please..." or "No...". The sight broke Mrs. Lovett's heart. She sat down next to him and started to attempt to wake him up.

"Ichabod, love, wake up. You're safe." She rubbed his arm and he cracked his eyes open.

"Mrs. Lovett," He panted, trying to calm himself. "I'm quite sorry..."

"It's all right. You were having a nightmare."

Ichabod swallowed nervously, then nodded. "It was terrible."

"I'm sure." She helped Ichabod to sit up. "Why don't you just relax and enjoy the fire for a bit?"

"I don't think I could go back to sleep, anyway…"

Mrs. Lovett could see that Ichabod's hands were shaking. He was obviously still very upset.

He and Mrs. Lovett watched the fire for a couple of minutes before he spoke up.

"How do you know Mr. Todd?" He finally asked. He wanted to get his mind off of that terrible dream he'd had.

Mrs. Lovett grinned when she thought about the answer to this. "Well, you see, about twenty years ago, he was a barber. Quite a good one, too. He was well-known and well-liked. He and his wife, Lucy, came in one day and asked to rent the rooms upstairs from me. They were just married, at the time, and very in love. Lucy was expecting a baby in a few months."

"So they came to live here," Ichabod finished.

"Yes. They lived here for a couple years, actually. They were such a lovely little family. Lucy was beautiful, so was Johanna. Had her mother's eyes, she did, and her hair too."

Ichabod raised an eyebrow. "Johanna. Is this the same Johanna that's with Anthony?"

Mrs. Lovett nodded 'yes'. "That's her. Mr. T has yet to tell her that he's her father, though, so you'd best keep quiet about it."

"Alright," Ichabod agreed.

"What happened to them?" Ichabod asked, after a bit of a silence. He'd never heard Sweeney mention another about having a family.

Mrs. Lovett sighed. "It's a tragedy, really. The judge in town, Judge Turpin, he lusted after Lucy. Lucy never reciprocated. She only loved Benjamin… I mean, Mr. T. Then one day, Turpin framed Mr. T and set him up to look as if he'd killed another man. Sent him to the prison camp in Australia, and then took Lucy and Johanna into his home."

"Wow..." Ichabod was really unsure of what to say to that. "No wonder he seems so miserable."

"Lucy poisoned herself with arsenic while he was gone. When he finally came back, and found out, it devastated him. If prison hadn't changed him, the knowledge that his wife and child were gone surely did."

"That's terrible."

"It is."

Again the two sat in silence. Despite the disturbing story he'd just heard, Ichabod was starting to get tired. He felt less stressed than he had when he'd first been woken up. Still, one thing was bothering him.

"I really don't want to be alone," He said, eyes focused on the ground.

"You're not alone. There's several other people here," Mrs. Lovett reminded him.

"No. I meant... I don't want to sleep alone. I'm going to have nightmares again."

"Ah." Mrs. Lovett considered this for a moment. Sweeney was likely still asleep. He'd always slept very deeply. "How about I stay here with you a while. Would that help?"

"Please."

"Sure." Mrs. Lovett took the empty mug and set it aside. "Lie back down."

Ichabod carefully curled up on the couch, head resting on Mrs. Lovett's knee. She reached over to help wrap the blankets around him. As soon as they were settled in, she heard Ichabod yawn. She rested her hand on Ichabod's side, rubbing his stomach slowly, watching as his eyes closed and he fell asleep.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 28

The next few weeks went by slowly, with the entire group taking things day by day. Sweeney and Anthony were still experiencing morning sickness, and were very tired for most of the day.

Ichabod was still weak, but was starting to show improvement. He was now able to walk short distances, thanks to Mrs. Lovett, who would help him walk a little further each evening.

It was three weeks after they'd arrived back home that Johanna had come running into the sitting room, throwing the door shut behind her and locking it.

"What's wrong, dear?" Mrs. Lovett asked, looking up at the girl. She and Ichabod had been sitting near the fire, each quietly reading.

"Mrs Lovett, you must help me board up the doors!" Johanna said, looking frantic.

"Why?"

"The doctors… the ones you all described… I saw them. I believe I did, at least. They fit the description perfectly. I think they were following me… They're about a block down, and they kept coming, and they were staring at me. They must know you're all here."

Ichabod cringed, just thinking of his years in captivity making him feel sick.

Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Alright, okay. Stay calm." She began pushing a chair towards the door, hooking it under the doorknob to serve as reinforcement to the lock currently in place. She then began pushing larger furniture near it too.

"Draw the curtains," She directed Johanna. "And you," She looked at Ichabod. "Go to one of the bedrooms if you think you can make it. Stay quiet, tell Anthony and Mr. T to do the same."

Ichabod nodded, and slowly got up, walking towards the nearest bedroom. Sweeney and Anthony happened to be inside, talking, when they saw him come in. The constable's legs were shaking, no doubt because of the amount of energy it'd taken him to walk from the front room to the bedroom, so Sweeney moved to help him to the bed.

"What's wrong?" The barber asked.

"Shh," Ichabod whispered, putting a finger over his lips. "Johanna saw them. We must stay quiet. Lock the door."

Sweeney raised an eyebrow. "She saw...the doctors?!"

"Yes! Now lock the door and shut up!"

"Okay, okay." Sweeney locked the door to the bedroom, and the three sat in silence.

In the sitting room, Johanna and Mrs. Lovett waited. After a few minutes, they heard footsteps outside the door.

"Must be them," The baker whispered.

Johanna nodded in agreement.

The people outside didn't bother to knock. Instead, the two women could see them trying to twist the doorknob open. The man began getting angry when it wouldn't budge, so the woman began to try.

"Open the door!" The man demanded, when he realized that they would be unable to simply get into the place. "Open the door now! We know you're in there!"

"You're never getting inside!" Mrs. Lovett shouted back.

There was a loud sigh from the man outside. "Make this easy for yourselves and let us have them back. We require nothing of you."

"GO AWAY," Mrs. Lovett yelled, walking towards the door and kicking it.

There was a silence before the female spoke up. "Fine. But we will get them back. Know that. One day, one of them will have to go outside, and we will get them."

The footsteps began to recede and Mrs. Lovett sighed with relief.

Johanna must've been feeling somewhat better too, because she spoke up then. "Wow, they must be pretty stupid if they thought they could just walk in."

Mrs. Lovett shook her head. "They'll keep trying. That's what we have to watch out for."


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 29

Oddly enough, the doctors did not bother the group again for quite a while. Both Sweeney and Anthony were starting or about halfway seventh months, respectively, by then and the doctors had yet to be heard from. Of course, Johanna and Mrs. Lovett had been incredibly careful in regards to watching if they were being followed and making sure that the doors were always locked.

Despite the relative calm, Sweeney and Anthony were fairly miserable, Sweeney especially. At nearly forty years old, his body wasn't taking the pregnancy so well. It seemed like his knees and back were always hurting, and he was always tired. Moving around was difficult in general. Sweeney had been thin his whole life and having such a large stomach just felt strange.

Anthony seemed to be fairing slightly better, being younger. He too was uncomfortable, but he could handle it for the most part.

On this particular day, both men were lounging on the couch near the fire, talking amongst themselves.

"I miss being able to see my feet," Sweeney said, stretching a bit. He hadn't seen his toes in about two weeks.

"Me too," Anthony agreed. "And I miss not having to pee constantly too."

Sweeney nodded in agreement. That'd been yet another problem that had been plaguing him.

"Don't get me started on the swollen ankles," Anthony continued.

The sound of footsteps coming into the room announced that Ichabod was joining them. A few months of rest and good food, along with Mrs. Lovett's constant assistance, had done wonders for him. He was walking around normally now, not having to stop constantly.

"You two complaining again?" He asked, smirking.

Both Sweeney and Anthony rolled their eyes.

"C'mon," Anthony replied. "You can understand. You've felt our pain."

"Yes, I felt it several times, actually," Ichabod answered.

"So you know, then!"

"I do. I actually came in to ask if there's anything you needed. And..." Ichabod looked Sweeney over. "Mr. Todd, do you want another shirt?"

Sweeney's clothes had not fit for quite some time and his current shirt was riding up. He frowned and mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that?" Ichabod asked.

"...I said that nothing fits anymore." Sweeney glared at him.

"Alright, alright. I understand. Anyhow, Mrs. Lovett asked me to tell you both that lunch is ready."

Sweeney and Anthony mumbled something about getting up, then began the slow process of actually getting up off the couch. Anthony managed to do it, but Sweeney was having difficulty.

Ichabod sighed, and offered his hands to the barber, intending to help him up.

"I don't need help," Sweeney hissed.

Ichabod shrugged. "Suit yourself, then."

He and Anthony had just left the room when Sweeney gave up and began calling for Ichabod to come back.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 30

Once Ichabod had gotten Sweeney off the couch, he waddled to the kitchen, finding Anthony and Johanna already sitting down. Mrs. Lovett was setting out some meat pies, which were surprisingly decent, now that she wasn't using human flesh to make them.

Ichabod pulled out a chair for Sweeney to sit in. The barber glared at him, but sat down any way. Ichabod sat down next to him, and the group began enjoying their food.

Mrs. Lovett watched for a few moments before speaking up.

"Well, now that we're all here, I've got something to discuss with you."

Everyone turned their attention to her.

"Earlier this morning, Johanna and I were at the market, when we saw those two doctors roaming around. We tried to duck into an alleyway, but there were too many people to move fast. They caught sight of us any way."

Both Sweeney and Anthony dropped the food they were eating, and stared at Mrs. Lovett in horror.

"So," She continued, bending down and opening a cabinet. "I picked this up earlier." She held up a .44 caliber Colt revolver.

"Where'd you get that?" Sweeney asked, shocked to see her holding a gun.

"I've got my ways," Mrs. Lovett replied, smirking. "Anyhow, I've got quite a good shot, as does Constable Crane here, so if anyone should dare try to get in again, we'll have some protection."

Ichabod nodded in agreement. "It's been a while, but one does not usually lose their ability to aim."

Anthony let out a deep breath. "Well, glad to see that we've got that covered, then."

The group went back to eating, and all was quiet for a few minutes, before Sweeney dropped his fork and began to groan in pain.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Lovett asked, making her way over to Sweeney.

Sweeney wrapped his arms around his stomach as best as he could and groaned again.

"Hurts..." He whispered.

"What hurts? Mr. Todd, you have to explain."

Everyone was now staring at him, waiting to see what was happening.

"I don't... I don't know... It's in my lower back, and in my lower stomach..."

Mrs. Lovett was trying to figure out what that might mean when Johanna spoke up.

"Um, Mrs. Lovett, I believe his water has broken."

Everyone glanced down at the floor. Indeed, there was a small puddle of water beneath Sweeney's chair.

"He's having contractions," Ichabod stated. "This is what happened to me all those times. The water breaks and the contractions start. We must get him to a bed."

Mrs. Lovett nodded in agreement. She and Ichabod helped Sweeney up, and led him into Mrs. Lovett's bedroom.

"I've never delivered a baby before," Mrs. Lovett said nervously.

Ichabod, who was standing next to her, frowned. "I've never seen it done, but I've been through it. I could coach him if everyone else could help." He looked at Johanna and Anthony, who had followed behind.

"We can help," Johanna answered. "Just tell us what to do."

"I think we'll need to be logical here. Since you saw the doctors this morning, we should consider that they may try to come today. That said, Mrs. Lovett should keep watch by the door with the revolver."

"I want to be here for Mr. T!" She protested.

"We NEED someone to keep us safe," Ichabod replied.

Mrs. Lovett frowned. "Fine, but you'd better let me know what's going on."

Ichabod nodded. "Johanna, we'll need blankets, hot water, a pocket watch, a knife, and hard alcohol."

Johanna raised an eyebrow. "Why do we need alcohol?"

"Because the pain is going to be excruciating for him."

"Oh. Right." Johanna walked off to get the items requested.

Ichabod then turned to Anthony. "In your present condition, I think the best thing for you to do is sit near him, let him hold your hand perhaps. It will help to have someone there."

Hearing Sweeney moan again, Anthony quickly made his way to the man's bedside.

"Hey, Mr. Todd, it'll be alright." He offered Sweeney his hand, and was a bit surprised when he took it, gripping it so strongly that Anthony feared he might break his fingers.

Ichabod, meanwhile, had rolled up his sleeves. "Mr. Todd, we're going to have to remove your trousers."

Despite the horrible pain he was in, Sweeney managed to give Ichabod an angry look.

"No way."

Ichabod sighed. "How else can we deliver the baby, then?"

Sweeney scowled at him, but conceded to Ichabod's point.

"We'll cover you with a blanket, alright?"

"...Fine."

At that moment, Johanna returned, arms full of the items she had gone to get.

"Wonderful," Ichabod said, taking some of the blankets. "I'll ask you both to turn around or close your eyes, please."

Both Johanna and Anthony turned away, while Ichabod helped Sweeney out of his trousers. He discarded them and laid a blanket over Sweeney's legs.

"Alright, then. You can turn around now. The next thing we need is to time the contractions. I believe he's having them about every thirty minutes. Johanna, you've got the watch?"

"Yes," Johanna said. "I'll begin keeping time."

For a while, it was calm. Sweeney had released his death grip on Anthony's hand, and was resting.

"It's too early for the baby to come, isn't it?" He asked Ichabod.

The constable could see the terrified look on Sweeney's face and he felt even worse for him.

"You're about month and a half early, yes. But that doesn't mean that the baby will not survive. It will be fairly well developed by now."

There was silence, until a few moments later, when another contraction began.

"Aghhhhhh! Make it stop!" Sweeney yelled, once again gripping Anthony's hand tightly.

Anthony smoothed Sweeney's hair back. "It'll be over soon, Mr. T."

Sweeney was breathing hard and fast. He glared at Ichabod again. "Give me some fucking gin, damn it!"

Ichabod shook his head. "We'll have to wait until it's closer to the time for the baby to come. If I give it to you now, it might depress your body too much and delay the labor."

Sweeney screamed again. "Just make it stop!"

Ichabod cringed. He knew what the barber was feeling, and it was terrible.

"Soon," He replied. "It'll be over before you know it."


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 31

It was another five hours before Sweeney was ready to push. By that point, he was exhausted and feeling like he'd die any second. Ichabod had allowed him a few shots of gin and it was helping a little bit, but Sweeney still felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out.

Johanna had readied a blanket for the baby and a knife to cut the umbilical cord. Anthony was still holding Sweeney's hand, and Ichabod was urging the barber to push.

"You can do it, Mr. Todd!" He said. "Come on, push again."

"No…"

"I know, I know, Mr. Todd, but you need to push again. Come on."

Sweeney gritted his teeth, and pushed again.

"Great, great job! I can see the top of its head! You're almost there. Take a deep breath."

Sweeney nodded and took a breath.

"Now, on the count of three, you need to push again. One. Two. Three."

There was another scream as Sweeney pushed. Now the baby's head was out.

"Again, Mr Todd! It's almost here."

"I can't..."

"You have to. The baby's halfway out!"

Sweeney shook his head. "Can't... too weak..."

"You have no choice. Ready… push!"

Despite his earlier protests, Sweeney did manage to push again. After this last one, Ichabod was able to grab onto the child, and pull it the rest of the way out. There was blood everywhere. It drenched the towels and blankets and covered Sweeney's thighs.

Ichabod didn't even notice. He was too focused on the infant in his hands. It was blue, and didn't look to be breathing.

Biting his lip, Ichabod did the only thing he could think of. He lightly smacked the baby on its bottom, trying to jolt it into breathing.

A second later, the infant began to cry.

"She's all right," Ichabod said, turning to face everyone else.

Sweeney, who looked more worn out than Anthony had ever seen him, sighed. "She...?"

"It's a girl. Johanna, do you mind cutting the umbilical cord?"

Johanna grimaced but did it any way. Ichabod began cleaning the baby up.

"She's very pretty, actually," Ichabod said, looking the little girl over. She had a tuft of dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and pale skin.

When the infant was clean, he wrapped her in a blanket, and showed her to Sweeney.

"A bit small, but she seems fine."

Sweeney took one look at his daughter, and all of the pain and anguish he'd felt over the past several months seemed to melt away. He'd never seen a little girl who was quite so beautiful. Well, except for Johanna. He'd thought her to be the most beautiful girl in the world when she had been born.

"Wow..." He said softly. "May... May I hold her?"

Ichabod nodded and gently placed the little girl into Sweeney's arms. The barber reached out to touch her with his free hand, and she immediately grabbed onto his thumb and actually looked like she was smiling.

Sweeney was shocked. He couldn't help but smile back at her. He was so enamored with his new little girl that he didn't notice the others cleaning him up or moving things around the room. All that mattered now was his little girl. His perfect little girl.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this, go read her stuff!  
Ch. 32

Sweeney had named the little girl Madeline Rose. He wasn't really sure why. The name had just popped into his mind and he'd liked it. Mrs. Lovett had fixed the baby some warm milk. Sweeney had fed her for the first time, and now the two were resting comfortably in Mrs. Lovett's bed. The sun had just gone down, and Sweeney was feeling extremely tired. Going through labor had taken a lot out of him.

Just then, Ichabod entered the room. He'd been checking on Sweeney periodically since Madeline had been born.

"Hey," Ichabod said softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. Sore. Happy, though."

Ichabod smiled. "I'm glad she made it through. She's beautiful."

Sweeney nodded, "I know. I'm... I'm oddly grateful for everything that happened. Does that make sense? I feel as though I should be angry but... When I hold her, that all fades away."

"It makes sense."

Sweeney yawned.

"Would you like me to take her for a bit? So you can rest."

"Please. Much as I love to have her in my arms, I really need some sleep."

Ichabod nodded. "Of course. I'll be right outside. Good night."

The constable was halfway out the door when he heard Sweeney whisper "Thank you."

00

Ichabod joined Johanna, Anthony and Mrs. Lovett in the sitting room, taking Madeline with him. Upon seeing the baby, the two women began to fawn over her.

"Look at her little hands! And her hair! She's going to have thick hair like Mr. Todd, I bet!" Mrs. Lovett said, before talking in baby talk to the little girl.

For her part, Madeline just stared at the woman like she was crazy.

"Looks like she's got Mr. Todd's personality, too," Ichabod noted.

Everyone laughed.

"He's resting, I take it?" Johanna asked.

"Yes, he needs it. He'll probably be tired for the next day or so at least."

The three stayed in the sitting room for quite a while, playing with the baby and holding her after she fell asleep. Anthony had asked a few questions about her, and about labor, wondering if he'd be faced with similar agony as Mr. Todd had just experienced.

Ichabod was explaining his answer to Anthony when there was a sound outside the door. Instantly, everyone quieted down.

There were a few more footsteps, then they stopped. Then the doorknob began to jiggle.

"They're picking the lock," Ichabod whispered. "Mrs Lovett, get the Colt ready."

Mrs. Lovett nodded and pulled the gun out of her garter.

"Johanna and Anthony, take Madeline and lock yourselves in the room with Mr. Todd. We'll take care of this."

The two nodded and scurried off, taking the baby with them.

The doorknob and the door began to shake, and Mrs. Lovett stood, holding the gun in front of her. Ichabod stood nearby.

Only a few seconds later, the door burst open. The lock fell to the floor and in stepped the two doctors.

The first thing Ichabod noticed was that the female was holding a gun.

"Shoot her!" He yelled.

Without thinking, Mrs. Lovett aimed and fired, hitting the woman right above her heart. She fell to her knees, gasping for breath. The male left her there, and began to advance towards them.

"Shoot!" Ichabod yelled, noticing that Mrs. Lovett seemed to be stunned by her own action.

When she made no move, Ichabod quickly pulled the revolver from her hands. Frederik was now only a few feet away. He reached down, and pulled out his own gun.

"Now let's all calm down," He said, holding it up. "All we want is Benjamin and Anthony. Bring them to us and no one else will get hurt."

Frederik took a step closer, completely ignoring his wife's pleas for help as she laid bleeding on the floor.

"I'm warning you," Ichabod said, taking a step back. "I'll shoot. Leave now, or I'll shoot."

Frederik continued to advance. He raised his gun. But before he got to fire, Ichabod had shot the revolver off. It was a perfect kill-shot. The bullet went right into Frederik's head, out the other side, and lodged in the wall, covering it with blood and brain matter.

Frederik fell face forward, dropping the gun as he fell.

Johanna and Anthony waited a few minutes after the gunshots before racing out. They found Ichabod still standing in the same position, arm still outstretched, gun still in his hand. His eyes were closed and he was trembling.

Anthony wrapped an arm around him and took the gun as Johanna went to tend to Mrs. Lovett, who was staring at the bodies on the floor, looking shocked.

"Are you all right?" Johanna asked, leading Mrs. Lovett away from the scene.

"Y...yes..." She replied. She shook her head, as if doing so would help her clear her mind in some way. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just startled."

"You shot them?" Johanna asked.

"I shot the female. Ichabod shot the male. They were both armed."

Johanna hugged Mrs. Lovett. "It's okay. You did the right thing. You saved us all."

Mrs. Lovett nodded. "I know. I know, I'm all right. Is Mr. Todd okay?"

"He actually slept through it all. He's still sleeping now."

Mrs. Lovett cracked a small smile. "That man always did sleep like the dead. No pun intended."

Johanna couldn't help but laugh, then Mrs. Lovett joined in.

"Well at least the threat is gone," Johanna finally said. "That'll be something nice for Mr. Todd to wake up to."

00

In the other room, Anthony was having a harder time calming Ichabod down. The constable was still shaking, and had begun to vomit on the floor. Anthony feared that he was going into shock.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," Anthony said, once Ichabod seemed to be done.

He led Ichabod into the bedroom that he shared with Johanna and sat him down on the bed.

Immediately, Ichabod covered his face with his hands. Anthony wasn't sure if he was trying to hide his expression. He sat down next to the dark-haired man and wrapped an arm around him.

A second later, he heard sniffling.

Then it hit him. Ichabod probably didn't want Anthony to see him crying.

"Hey, come on, it's alright," Anthony whispered, moving Ichabod's hands away. He could see tears running down Ichabod's face and he pulled him into a hug.

Ichabod rested his head on Anthony's shoulder and began to cry harder, while the sailor rubbed his back.

"It's alright, you did the right thing," Anthony whispered.

Ichabod sat up. "I... I killed someone...! Shot them dead!" His hands started shaking again.

Anthony took both of Ichabod's hands in his own. "Ichabod, breathe. Please, breathe. You need to calm down."

Ichabod took a deep breath, then another, then another.

Finally, he seemed to calm down.

"I killed someone," He stated again. "I don't know if I can ever forgive myself."

"You killed the person who tortured you, had you raped, performed experiments on you, and forced you to give birth several times. You killed the man who would've let you die. The man who tortured us, too. He would've gotten to Mr Todd and I and would've taken us back. You saved us, Ichabod."

Ichabod nodded. "I know. I just... it's... I know they deserved it. I shouldn't feel this way."

Anthony hugged him again. "It's fine. Everything's going to be okay. I promise. You'll feel better soon. You saved us all. You did nothing wrong."


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Phish Tacko beta'd this. Go read her stuff!

Ch. 33

At some point that evening, everyone except Mrs. Lovett had gone to bed. The next morning, the bodies of the two doctors were gone. No one questioned it. They didn't want to know what she'd done with them. In fact, from that point on, the doctors were never mentioned again.

About two months had passed since then, and Anthony was nine months pregnant. He was expecting to go into labor any day, and hoping that it would happen soon. Being nine months pregnant was extremely hard work. His back and ankles hurt constantly, he barely wanted to move, and he felt hot all the time.

Then, very early one morning, a painful sensation woke Anthony up.

"Ugh…" He moaned, sitting up in bed. The movement woke Johanna.

"You all right?" She asked sleepily.

Anthony shook his head. "I think... I think it's time."

"Oh, Lord. Alright. I'll go wake the others."

It had to be around two or three in the morning, and everyone was still asleep. Ichabod was sprawled out on the couch near the fireplace. He was the first one that Johanna woke.

"Ichabod," She said, rubbing his arm gently. "Ichabod, Anthony's going into labor."

"Huh?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. "Oh. OH. Okay, okay. Let me get dressed and I'll go help. You wake Mrs Lovett and Mr. Todd."

Johanna nodded, and walked towards the room that Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney shared. They said it was because there wasn't much space, but Johanna doubted that was true. Since Madeline had been born, Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett had become closer. They seemed to be romantically involved, though neither had admitted it yet. They had been raising the baby as a traditional family would.

She opened the door to find Sweeney on the outside half of the bed, Mrs. Lovett by the wall, and Madeline sleeping peacefully in her bassinet.

Johanna shook both of them awake.

"Anthony's having contractions!"

Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett quickly jumped out of bed, and followed her back to the bedroom.

Ichabod was already there, dressed, and ready to go.

"He's only just started contractions," He informed everyone. "It'll be a while."

So, everyone stayed up and waited. Johanna gathered the same supplies that she'd used when Sweeney had given birth, but besides that, there wasn't much to do yet. Every now and then, Anthony would have a contraction and would yell or scream. During those times, Johanna held his hand and whispered comforting words to him.

Around dawn, Anthony's water broke. The contractions started speeding up an hour later.

"It's killing me from the inside!" Anthony yelled as another one hit him. "Get it out!"

"It's going to come soon enough," Ichabod reassured him.

"Get it out NOW!"

The baby finally started to come as Big Ben chimed quarter past nine. Anthony was sweating, cursing, and squeezing Johanna's hand so hard that she could barely feel it anymore.

"Alright, Anthony. It's coming. Push," Ichabod said. Mrs. Lovett was waiting nearby with a towel while Sweeney sat near Anthony on the other side of the bed.

"AHHHHHHHHFUCKYOU!" Anthony yelled. This push was especially painful.

Ichabod smirked, knowing that Anthony didn't mean what he was saying.

"Push again."

Anthony pushed again and yelled another string of profanities.

"This one's coming easy," Ichabod said. "One more push, Anthony."

Anthony closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and gave it one more go.

Seconds later, the sound of an infant crying filled the room.

"Looks like... it's a girl! Madeline will have someone to play with!" Ichabod announced. He handed the baby to Mrs. Lovett, who proceeded to clean her off while Ichabod cut the cord.

Anthony lay on the bed, panting, completely drained.

Ichabod, Mrs. Lovett, and Sweeney all examined the baby. She was large for a newborn and had blonde hair and pale skin, much like Anthony and Johanna did. Ichabod and Sweeney tried not to think about the fact that James also had similar features.

"Would you like to hold her?" Mrs. Lovett asked once Anthony seemed to be breathing normally again.

"Of course I would."


	34. Epilogue

Epilogue

Anthony, Johanna, Sweeney, Mrs. Lovett, and Ichabod all sat in the park one bright sunny Sunday. Madeline and Olivia were sitting in the grass, picking dandelions, while Ichabod watched. Meanwhile, the other adults talked amongst themselves.

A lot had changed in the two years since Olivia had been born. For one thing, Anthony and Johanna had gotten married. It'd been a nice wedding in a small church, and now Johanna was expecting a child.

Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett had officially announced their relationship as well, though they'd not yet gotten married. They were, however, raising Madeline as a married couple would. Mrs. Lovett truly loved the little girl, as did Sweeney. It seemed that having a young daughter had softened the barber a lot, and his craving for revenge was almost down to nothing. The result was that he and Mrs. Lovett now lived peaceful, murder-free lives.

The group all still lived together. Even Ichabod was still there, though he now stayed in Mrs. Lovett's old room. She and Sweeney had moved upstairs to live in the rooms near the barbershop.

Ichabod had had the hardest time recovering. Though he'd gotten better physically, he still had nightmares about his years in captivity, and he was often depressed. Helping to look after the children helped with that a bit, but at the same time, Ichabod longed for all the children he had lost. Mrs. Lovett, Anthony, Johanna and Sweeney all tried their best to help him along.

The conversation between the adults was interrupted as Olivia and Madeline ran over, holding several dandelions in their hands. Madeline handed one to her father and one to her mother, while Olivia did the same, then handed Johanna an extra one "for the baby".

Sweeney couldn't help but smile. What had happened may have been terrible, but at least something beautiful had come from it.

END


End file.
